It's a Wonderful Lie
by mystic7194
Summary: Dean is Lucifer not possessed Cas still loves/dates him. Sam doesn't react as well. So, Dean wipes his memories and hides him from the angels. 13 years later he has a family. What happens when the angels find them? Dean/Cas slash Now Complete
1. Prologue

Author's Note: Merry Christmas! This is my gift to the fandom. I promised I'd put the prologue up before 2010 so here it is. Sorry for the wait. Enjoy!

Ps: This story diverts from cannon after season 4, so it's set in an AU season 5.

Prologue 

Dean is bored. Who would have thought being The Lord of Hell would be so dull? Dean's been in charge for s few months and he's fallen into a mind numbingly boring routine. He would spent most of the morning (or what passed for morning down here) sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the stuffy throne room listening to groups of lower level demons alternate between bitching about things Dean really didn't giving a crap about and shamelessly kissing his ass, which got real old real fast.

After that he meets with a bunch of upper-class demonic "advisers" in the tacky war room that looks like a set straight out of an old B movie. The demons crowd around offering him "advice" on how to take down heaven or some bullshit like that (he's doesn't really pay attention anymore). He doesn't know why they even wasted his time; it wasn't like he is ever going to listen to them. He hadn't exactly been the 'Dear Abby' type when he was fully human. He wasn't going to go around listening to some demonic bastards now.

Before he ruled hell he'd hated demons with a passion. Now that he ruled them, he just found the black-eyed creatures annoying.

Dean is relieved when a platoon of demons interrupts his morning snore-fest with an announcement from the battle field.

"My lord" their self-appointed leader begins. "My most glorious and beneficent master of the blazing inferno I greet you with news that I hope will please you." He's one of the biggest ass kissers down here.

"Yes, yes get on with it. Quit groveling already" Dean replies. "Keep it short."A look of irritation flashes across the demon's face but he complies.

"My lord we have captured an angel."

"Oh yeah?" Dean asked. That could make for an interesting afternoon.

"Yes master. We have restrained his powers and are preparing to interrogate him," the demon informs him. It's obvious that he's looking for a reward of some kind. "It is the creature you knew before you ascended to the position of our lord, the angel called Castiel." The last part is added as an afterthought.

"Cas? You captured Cas!?" Dean asks. The demons nod. "I want to interrogate him myself. Bring him here."

It takes only a few moments of frantic movement and harsh whispers for his orders to be carried out. Castiel is half-led, half-dragged into the room. The angel's hands are chained in front of him by manacles that look appear to be made of bone. They emit an ominous glow making it obvious that Castiel is bound by more than just the physical cuffs.

Castiel looks as though he did not go quietly. Some parts of his trench coat looks like an angry cat got to it as well as having an area near the bottom burned away. His shirt and pants have several holes in them that look as though they were made by knives. Nearly everything seems torn or splashed with blood.

As they approach the throne, Cas is shoved to the floor. The demons then attach his chains to a metal ring set into the floor forcing the angel to kneel at Dean's feet. A look of surprise with just a hint of betrayal flash across Castiel's features before shifting into a look of defiance. Dean suppresses a smile; despite his appearance, the angel is far from broken.

The demons filling the throne room crowd around the captured angel like hungry sharks who have smelt blood in the water. They are eager to see what sort of torture Dean will inflict upon him. Dean is aware of them and what they want him to do but he has other plans. He puts on his best Lord of Hell voice and orders them all out.

Dean waits until all the demons are gone before letting his terrify demon lord persona drop. He approaches the angel cautiously, like a wounded wild animal. He'd had trouble anticipating Castiel's actions before but, with this most recent turn of events, he had no clue how his lover (probably ex-lover now) would react. Dean is surprised when the warrior of God speaks before he has a chance.

"This will be a waste of your time, Lucifer," the angel states coldly. "I am not going to break, no matter what vessel you have taken." The last part of this statement is particularly bitter, as if he perceives this choice to be a personal insult. Dean is taken back.

"Cas this isn't a vessel, this is me. It's Dean." Dean tries to explain. Cas stares at him the cold defiance replaced by hot anger. He speaks as slowly and deliberately as usual but there is fire in his eyes.

"Why do you dare to mock me with these lies? You are Lucifer, the Prince of Deceit, not the man I rescued from hell. Dean Winchester is gone."

"Did your two-faced junkless bosses tell you that?!" Dean hisses becoming frustrated. Castiel responds with stubborn silence. "They are the ones who lied Cas. Lucifer didn't take me over. I AM Lucifer, always was I guess. It was just locked away inside of me. Sammy set it free but, it didn't change me much. I'm still Dean Winchester. I'm still craving a nice juicy hamburger the greasier the better, I miss drivin' my baby on the open highway with Metallica blasting from the stereo, and most of all I really, really want to have sex with you." By the end of Dean's speech he is down on one knee in front of Castiel with his hand on the angel's shoulder staring straight into his eyes. Castiel the heat of Dean's body so close to him is overwhelming. It takes all of his willpower to keep himself from leaning into Dean's touch. It's been nearly six months since Castiel was led to believe that his lover had been possessed by Lucifer, that he was as good as dead. He'd missed him and mourned his loss. Now here he is so warm and inviting and alive.

Castiel looks through Dean's eyes and into his soul. In some ways it seems altered in some ways, like a photo taken through a colored lens, but in other ways it looks like the soul that he rescued from the pit over a year ago. He'd been so broken but, Castiel had still fallen in love with him the moment he laid eyes on him. He can sense Lucifer's presence but he and Dean are intertwined so tightly that Cas can barely tell where one ends and the other begins.

It feels like Dean is telling the truth. It feels like Dean is still Dean. It feels like he has his lover back.

Castiel gives in to what he so desperately wants. He leans forward and captures Dean's lips with his own. They kiss passionately with all the pent up energy from months of loneliness and worry. Dean's hands run through Castiel's short hair, touching and sometimes grabbing it as if it will keep him from falling apart. Their lips break apart as Dean's lips find a new place to explore, Castiel's neck. Dean alternatively licks and nips the place where the angel's neck meets his shoulders. Castiel closes his eyes and savors the sensations invoked by the lover he thought he'd lost.

Dean lifts his head. He is panting slightly.

"Bedroom?" he asks the angel. Castiel nods. Any attempt at speaking would probably come out indecipherable.

Dean places his hand above the cuffs around Castiel's wrists and concentrates. The cuffs fall to the floor with a quiet thump.

"There's always time for bondage later" Dean jokes as he leads Castiel through a doors hidden under an ornate and into his private quarters.

As they enter the room it's obvious that, unlike the previous room, Dean had decorated it himself. It has the same basic layout as the hotel rooms that Castiel always found the Winchesters in but, seems to be full of more personal touches. There are Metallica posters covering the walls. One shelf is filled with Dean's favorite DVDs. There's a classic car magazine lying on the floor.

Dean leads Castiel to his bed. They collapse onto it in a tangle of limbs with Dean on top. The bed may not be very ornate but it is large and comfy.

They begin kissing again as Dean strips off first his own clothes and then Castiel's, casually tossing them to the floor. He grabs his lube from the side table and spreads it over his fingers. He nudges Castiel's knees apart, gaining sight of the angel's tight hole. He slowly begins to work one finger into Castiel. He has to move slowly to allow Castiel's body to become used to him again after their separation.

Castiel gasps every time Dean touches his prostate. Dean takes his time adding a second and finally a third finger. By the time Dean feels that Castiel is stretched enough the angel is making soft needy noises that make Dean hard.

Dean quickly slicks up his cock up before lining up with Castiel's well streached opening. He pushes all the way in with one slow thrust and then stays there just barely touching the angel's special spot. He waits, allowing the angel to adjust. Castiel's breath is hitched and filled with quiet moans. Dean can tell that the stillness is driving the angel crazy so he is merciful and begins to thrust slowly.

Castiel rarely says anything during sex but, he does make a lot of noises. Each noise signifies something and Dean has learned the meaning of every one. He savors them all.

Castiel's hands run up and down along Dean's back as his lover thrusts inside him. Dean's right hand pumps Castiel's cock in the same rhythm as his thrusts. The other hand strokes the angel's nipples.

Confessions and words of love spill from Dean's lips as he continues to pump into Castiel's body.

"Missed you," he tells him between kisses and small love bites on his throat. "Ached for you. Tore me up inside. Thought I lost you, never going to see you again. Thought you would hate me. Can't hate me. Would kill me if you hated me. Now you're here. You're back. You belong here, with me, under me, like this." Castiel moans every time Dean presses his lips to Castiel's neck.

Dean speeds up his thrusts as they both approach orgasm. All it takes is a few nips to the sensitive area on his neck and Castiel is coming with a loud moan. The ripple of pleasure that sends through the flesh surrounding Dean's cock brings him to orgasm as well.

They collapse on the bed sticky with come. Dean grabs his shirt from the floor and cleans them off the best he can. They just lie wrapped together in silence a while. Dean is just savoring the feel of his lover but, Castiel's mind is racing.

"Ok what's wrong?" Dean asks. Castiel opens his mouth to reply. "And don't say it's nothing because you're a crappy liar." Castiel sighs.

"I'm concerned about what is to come. What are you planning to do?" Castiel inquires.

"About what?"

"The war, your enemies in heaven, your dominion over the pit, the impending apocalypse…" he trails off. 'Our relationship' goes unsaid but Dean can tell that Castiel wants to ask about it.

"Nothing" Dean replies. Castiel gives him his patented head tilt of confusion so Dean clarifies. "The war Zachariah and his little friends want me to fight them which will destroy everything and bring about the end of days, right?" Castiel nods. 'Well, I'm not going to fight them. I like the earth. Earth is fun. I'm not going to help him destroy it." Castiel nods.

"That will be unexpected. They will try to force your hand but, if you can resist them, it may avert the apocalypse" Castiel states.

"Exactly" Dean agrees. "As I see it, the angel's are supposed to be the good guys but they aren't exactly doing a good job of it. That leaves the position open for us. We can be the good guys and any demon who doesn't like it can kiss his ass goodbye." Castiel visibly relaxes at this statement.

"And as for the two of us, Dean continues using his best 'Dean Winchester sexy voice'. I'm going to remain the King of hell and you can be my queen."

Castiel rolls his eyes but, doesn't resist when Dean pulls him into a kiss.

An: That's just the prologue. The rest of the story deals more with Sam's reaction to Lucifer!Dean although there is no Wincest and at least one more Dean/Cas sex scene (Cas is still present as Dean's boy friend). I have a few chapters written but, I need to do some editing. Chapter 1 will be up by the end of January, I promise. So stay tuned. Well I'm off to my Grandmother's house (not yay), I hope you all have a Merry Christmas! Until next time : )


	2. Chapter 1

This Chapter Warnings: mild violence

Chapter 1:

Author's note: Here's the first chapter. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the prologue. I hope you like this chapter. Enjoy!

Sam wakes up with a pounding headache. After a few false starts, he opens his eyes. He blinks a few times. Where ever he is the light is bright. After his eyes adjust he finds himself lying on a four poster bed large enough that, for once, his feet don't hang off the end. The sheets are covered in blue and yellow ducks with a matching comforter. It's the most comfortable bed he can ever remember sleeping on, despite the embarrassing bedspread. The problem is that he can't remember how he got here.

He shakily pushes himself into a sitting position. Now he can more easily survey his surroundings. The bed lies in the corner of a square room with pale blue walls. The bed is the only piece of furniture in the room. The only other thing Sam sees is two closed doors. One is set in the wall nearly directly across from his bed and the other is along the wall that his feet are facing. He hopes that one of them will lead to an exit; he's just got to choose the right one.

He decides to try the door directly across from him. He slowly shifts his feet from the bed to the floor. The world seems to spin as he takes his first step and he just barely manages to stay on his feet. The world continues to sway dangerously as he takes more steps. He's only half way across the room when the other door opens. Two large men enter. They stop when they see Sam standing at the center of the room. Their eyes momentarily become pools of inky darkness. Demons.

"Oh what are you doing out of bed little man?" the demon asks in that mocking tone that all demons seem to use. It's as if 'How to Speak Evilly' is a required part of Being a Demon 101.

Sam tries to run but, even if he could make it three steps without feeling like he's on the Tilt-a-Whirl, there's nowhere for him to go. One of the men, who Sam has nicknamed Big Ugly #1, holds him down while the other, Big Ugly #2, pulls out a needle and jabs it into Sam's forearm. He tries to fight but, darkness overwhelms his vision. The last thing he sees before losing consciousness is Big Ugly #1's smirking face.

***

When Sam slowly regains consciousness, the first thing he notices is that he's handcuffed to the bed. He pulls on them gently at first, testing the strength of his bonds. Then, he begins pulling in earnest. He thrashes his whole body, desperately trying to get his wrists free.

He flinches in surprise as a pair of hands press down upon him, forcing him to be still.

"Cut it out Sam. You're going to hurt yourself," says a familiar voice attached to the hands. Sam is surprised to see his brother standing next to him. He mentally scolds himself. 'My brother isn't standing next to me. That's Lucifer, not Dean.' He notices the chair set up next to his bed. He wonders how long it has been sitting next to him.

"I'm glad you're awake. I was worried. Jahi hit you pretty hard," the thing that looks like Dean continues.

"Who?" Sam asks confused his mind still reeling from everything that has happened since he last woke up.

"Jahi… You know… Cute college girl… blond…nice boobs…hit you on the back of the head with a lamp…" the thing with his brother's face elaborates. That's when it all comes flooding back to Sam.

The warfront had been eerily quiet. The demons hadn't made a move in over 2 months. In retrospect Sam should have been suspicious, instead he was restless and on edge. So when he got wind of a simple hunt close by he jumped at the chance to investigate it with Bobby. Something had seemed off in the town since the moment they arrived but Sam had blamed that on the presence of the spirit he was there to hunt.

He and Bobby had decided to begin gathering information at the bar. The first half-a-dozen people they'd tried to interview had only confirmed what they already knew. Then they met a group of college students drinking together. One of them, a petite blond, provided the name of a ghost rumored to haunt the town. This isn't new information but, she also offered to take Sam to the house where the woman died.

Bobby was busy with another interview that could have been very important, so Sam followed the woman alone. They drove nearly 45 minutes to a house on the outskirts of town. She led him up the stairs to the room where the woman supposedly died. He was about to enter the room when his phone rang. The caller ID read 'Bobby' but he never had the chance to answer it. The last thing he remembers is a sudden pain in the back of his head and then darkness. The woman knocked him unconscious. She must have been a demon.

"How did I get here?" Sam demands. "What about the hunt?"He's still trying to put together the last few details.

"Sam, the hunt wasn't real," the thing explains. "The town wasn't even real. It was a set up to get you here. All the townspeople were just demons waiting for you to show up. No one has lived there in a long time. Some people used to live there but, they made the mistake of building their town on a demon portal. Demons can use it to travel from point A to point B instantaneously. It's like something out of one of your geek shows. All the demons passing through caused the people to abandon the town, making it the perfect place for a Sammy trap. The portal is centered in that room Jahi was trying to get you in. If you just went in, she wouldn't have had to knock you out."

"What do you want with me?" Sam asks. "I'm never going to help you."

"Sammy…" it says. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk to you."

"Don't call me Sammy" Sam responds venomously. "What if I don't have any interest in what you have to say?"

"It doesn't look like you have much choice _Sammy_" the Dean-thing says laughing. He stresses the last word in an obvious attempt to be annoying. His face falls when Sam's face contorts with pure rage. "Seriously man, I need to talk to you. I can't let you go back to those two-faced junkless angel dicks."

"Why do you care?" Sam hisses his voice full of malice. Shock spreads over the thing's face.

"Dude, I'm your brother and.." Sam cuts him off.

"Fuck you. You're not my brother. You're some disgusting evil thing that crawled into his body. You're the slimy piece of shit that took Dean away from me."

"Sam, I'm still your brother just … different. I always…" he tries to explain but, Sam interrupts him again.

"Shut up!" Sam screams at him, thrashing at the bed. He wants nothing more at this moment than to wrap his hands around Lucifer's throat and squeeze him from his brother's body. "I don't want to hear your fucking lies! Torture me, kill me, whatever. Just don't waste your breath lying to me."After finishing his little rant Sam glares, a mix of determination and fury, at the other occupant of the room who is trying to form some kind of response. His mouth opens several times, as though he's about to say something, but he can't seem to find the words. Eventually he just leaves extremely frustrated.

Sam is left staring at the ceiling with his wrists still attached uncomfortably to the headboard. Eventually the boredom gets to him and he falls asleep.

AN: Thanks for reading. Please review. I'm going to try to start updating every two weeks. Until then : )


	3. Chapter 2

Title: It's a Wonderful Lie (Chapter 2)  
Pairing: Dean/Castiel  
Overall Rating: R  
Overall Warnings: slash, graphic sex, Lucifer!Dean  
This Chapter Warnings: mild violence  
Spoilers: Up to the end of season 4.  
Disclaimer: Santa didn't leave Dean or Cas for me. Did anyone else have better luck?  
Summary: This read this prompt over the summer:

Lucifer!Dean/Castiel, Dean _is_ Lucifer (not possessed) and decides to screw the angels (and demons) over and NOT bring about the apocalypse.

Cas still loves Lucifer!Dean and thus commence the sexin's.

How does Sam react? Not well. Dean has trouble handling the situation.

Chapter 2:

AN: Sorry, I meant to post this yesterday but my will to write left me for nearly 2 weeks. I was supposed to just do a quick look over of this chapter but, I ended up almost completely overhauling the end. I like what came out.

There is Cas this chapter (more than originally planned) and we get a little more into Dean's head. I hope you enjoy that. So without further ado read and enjoy!

Sam awakens for the third time since his capture. He feels like he's only been asleep a few hours but there is no way to know for certain how long he's been here. He hopes that Bobby is looking for him but, the demons could have moved him thousands of miles by now. He might even be in hell. Bobby wouldn't even know where to begin looking. Zachariah would probably have better luck finding him but, he doesn't seem like the rescue party type.

Suddenly, Sam realizes that his hands are free. Someone must have unchained him while he was sleeping. He sits cross-legged on the bed, trying to decide what to try next. He understands that the next time he wakes up he may be handcuffed to the bed again or worse. He should try to escape while he has the chance. He decides to try the door that the demons entered from the first time he was awake.

Unsurprisingly it's locked. He looks around but, there's nothing in the nearly empty room that he can use to pick the lock. The only other option he can think of is to try to break the door down. He rams it with his shoulder. He bounces off and then sets himself up to run at the door again. He continues even as his shoulder radiates with pain. Eventually a crack forms in the door. Sam smiles at it as he pauses to try to catch his breath. Right before his eyes the crack seals up as if it had never been there. Sam lets out a growl of frustration. There goes that plan.

He decides to try the other door. Fortunately, he finds that it's unlocked. Unfortunately, the door opens to reveal a bathroom. That's not really going to help him escape. The toilet, sink, and bath tub are made of white marble. The shower curtain and floor tiles both are decorated with a pattern of interspaced black squares surrounded by white. The floor is partially covered by a furry black carpet. Just like the other room, it's simple but pleasant looking.

Sam's searching the room for anything that could help him escape when he remembers that he hasn't had a shower in at least a day, probably more. He doesn't exactly smell like roses and his body aches from being handcuffed to the bed for an extended period of time. Sam eventually succumbs to the siren song of hot water.

He turns the handle to start the water. He pauses a moment to allow the temperature to adjust before he steps under the spray. The hot water pulsating over his skin allows his tense muscles to relax.

Everything he needs is in the room. An unused bar of soap lies on a small ledge next to a bottle of fruity smelling shampoo. It's the kind Sam would like to buy but, is usually outside their limited budget. (Plus, Sam didn't want to give Dean another reason to call him a girl). Even after he's thoroughly clean he stays under the cascading waterfall. For a little while he allows himself to forget the trouble that he's in. His fingers are beginning to prune by the time Sam finally steps out of the shower.

A metal towel rack just outside the shower holds two white towels that are fluffier than anything he can ever remember using, even when he was at Stanford. He wraps one around himself and exits the bathroom.

When he exits the bathroom, he finds that his dirty clothes have disappeared and there are fresh cloths laid out on the bed. The cloths seem new but, surprisingly comfortable. They fit perfectly and are things he might have, in a different situation, bought for himself. Sam finds the entire situation a little eerie but, he's glad that he doesn't have to put his dirty clothes back on.

Whoever left the clothes also left a tray with food on a small table next to the bed. On the tray are two turkey sandwiches, prepared just how Sam likes them. They were even cut diagonally the way he preferred. There is also a plastic cup filled with diet coke. When Sam thinks about ignoring the meal, his stomach protests with a rumble. Worst case scenario: the food is poisoned but, what would be the point of that? They could have killed him hundreds of times already while he slept. He decides to risk it. It tastes pretty good for being captured food. Most of the time when Sam is captured, which happens pretty frequently in his line of work, his captures don't feed him at all, let alone feed him something that's actually good.

On the opposite side of the tray from the food, in its own little dish, is a bag of ice. There's a note taped to the bag. On it there are three words written in his brother's hand writing:_ "for your shoulder". _Sam's shoulder is still aching slightly from his escape attempt, so once again he decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Sam sits with his feet over the side of the bed. One hand holds the ice to his sore shoulder while he eats his chicken sandwich with the other. Occasionally he lets the ice balance by itself long enough for him to take a sip of his coke. He absentmindedly eats his meal and wonders what he should do next.

***

Despite eating slowly, Sam still doesn't have any concrete plans for escape by the time he's finished his meal. He lies on the bed thinking. He wonders if the thing inside his brother will have any of his brother's weaknesses. If he did, Sam might be able to take him. After all, Sam had beaten him the last time they fought, after he'd escaped from Bobby's panic room. But back then he'd been pumped up on the demonic version of steroids. Now the advantage was to the thing. Speak of the devil…

The door swings open and there stands Lucifer.

"Hey Sammy" he says wearing a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He seems nervous. It's reminiscent of when Dean came to get him at Stanford. Sam mentally slaps himself. He has to remember that it's not real. It isn't Dean, just a demon acting the part. "How's it going?"

"I'm fine" Sam answers his gaze glued to the ceiling. His voice is full of obviously false friendliness. "Well you know, as fine as you can be when you're imprisoned by the psychotic lord of hell who's snuggled up inside your brother's meat suit?" Sam tries to sound nonchalant but, it comes out more upset than he intends.

"Sammy" Lucifer sighs. He sits down on the bed next to Sam's outstretched legs. "You know I hate chick flick moments but, we need to talk. I'm not going to lie and say that I don't rule hell but, there is more to it than that. I might be Lucifer but, I'm also still your brother. I'm still in here dude. I'm not going to leave you." He leans over to look at the younger man. He's shocked to see that Sam has his eyes closed and is facing the wall. He looks as though he's asleep but, the other man knows better. Sam's fists are clenched so hard the knuckles are white. He's practically shaking with the urge to slug Lucifer. "Ok man. I'll leave you alone for now but, I'll be back later." Sam hears the door close and he's alone once again.

Lucifer doesn't give up. He shows up in Sam's room a dozen more times. Most visits end just like this one. Sometimes there's yelling. One time Sam even gave in to temptation and punched Lucifer in the face. Lucifer never yells or punches back but it doesn't matter, Sam isn't any more willing to listen than he was the first two times. Still, Lucifer doesn't stop coming.

For awhile Sam fights with everything he has against every demon that walks through his door. He uses anything he can as a weapon, including his dinner tray, soap, the small folding table that the food comes on and even occasionally the food itself. At one point, as a show of good faith, Sam is given a small shelf full of books. The topics are carefully chosen. Anything regarding the supernatural or that could inspire rebellion isn't included. They keep him occupied for awhile, until he dumps the books out and tries to use the shelf to ram the door. He wakes up handcuffed to the bed once again.

Eventually the demons stop leaving him with anything that seemed even remotely dangerous. Sam ends up eating his food off paper plates on the floor without utensils. Still Sam tries to fight them for as long as he can but, he can't keep it up forever.

***

Sam estimates that he's been locked up for two months when the shit hits the fan.

That "morning" when Sam emerged from the shower, fully dressed but still toweling his hair dry, he finds an unfamiliar demon delivering his breakfast. Sam pauses when he sees him. Demons delivering food isn't abnormal in his new life but he prefers when the food just seems to magically appear. Sam stands in the doorway keeping a steady eye on the demon. The unfamiliar demon, now nicknamed Big Ugly #12, places the food down calmly. It doesn't even make eye contact before heading back toward the door. Sam breathes a sigh of relief but it's premature.

As it reaches the door, Big Ugly #12 turns back around, his borrowed face set into a malicious smirk. The creature's voice is harsh and taunting.

"Are you really the human they tell those stories about? Can't be. A pathetic thing like you killed Alistair? I don't believe it. You're just our lord's pet, content to be kept in this pretty little cage. So well trained, tales of your viscous bite must have been exaggerated. Don't get so much as a growl out of you anymore." Anger swells in Sam but before he can reply the demon exits the room with a mocking laugh.

Sam fumes internally as moves across the room.

"Asshole," he mumbles under his breath.

'Well maybe he's right,' a traitorous little voice in the back of Sam's head whispers.

'What?!'

'Maybe he's right,' the voice repeats. 'Maybe you are becoming Lucifer's well trained little pet. You haven't been fighting like you used to. You used to fight tooth and nail against your captors. It never did any good but that doesn't matter. It's the principal. You haven't fought against them in days. You've rolled over for Lucifer like an obedient dog.'

'No,' Sam argues. 'I haven't. I'm just lulling him into a false sense of security.' He isn't convincing anyone, least of all himself.

Internally he worries. He took psychology classes at Stanford. He did a group project his freshman year on Stockholm syndrome. He basically did the entire project himself because Danny Philips kept coming to their work sessions too drunk to see straight. So, he knows the symptoms. He knows that the longer he stays here the more likely he is to give in to Lucifer.

He can't let that happen. Trusting a demon is what set Lucifer free in the first place. He's not going to make that mistake again. He has to push himself to keep fighting. He makes a plan for that evening.

***

Despite Big Ugly #12 surprising him in the morning, Sam usually had a pretty good sense of when someone was going to enter his room. So, when he was pretty sure that someone would be bringing the evening meal soon, he started up the shower but instead of stepping under the spray he slides under the bed. The idea is to misdirect the demon. Sam has no idea if this is going to work but he has to try.

As he lies in wait he can't help hoping that Lucifer is the one to bring him his food today. He'd love to take a shot at the bastard.

He doesn't have to wait long before he hears the lock on the door click. He can't see much but, catches a glimpse of feminine ankles. They pace back and forth a few times, inspecting the room. The second time those ankles drift past him, he catches hold of them and pulls. Bits of taco go flying everywhere as the unfamiliar demon lady hits the floor.

Sam drags himself out and charges at her. Her mouth is still opened wide in shock. The demon waves her hand and, out of panic, sends Sam crashing into one of the room's walls. He hits his head hard making his vision swim.

He can just barely make out a blurry shape fleeing the room. He wants to follow her but he can't get his body to move. The world starts spinning like a bad day at the amusement park. He can't even make it to his feet before he blacks out.

***

Dean pushes open the door to the house where he's keeping Sam. It's not very large but it is remote and secure. More importantly though, it's topside. He may be in charge of the legions of hell but that doesn't means he trusts them. All it would take was one demon who was stupid enough to think he could get away with it. Sure he'd peel the flesh off any little black eyed bastard that dared to touch his brother but that wouldn't undo anything the little psychos did to Sam when he wasn't looking.

Dean hasn't been here in a few days. He'd had to go downstairs to deal with some lord of hell business. Normally that meant Cas could watch Sammy for him but he'd needed Cas by his side this time. So after a lot of threats he'd had to leave Sam in the care of demons for a few days. He was pretty sure they wouldn't try anything but he still hadn't been overjoyed about the idea. He was glad to be back above ground. The sun had just begun to rise so he decided to bring Sammy some breakfast, even if the stubborn little punk wouldn't appreciate it.

"Hey Sammy, I brought you…" Dean says as he enters Sam room. His words trail off as he takes in the sight before him. Sam is sprawled against the wall, unconscious. An egg McMuffin and orange juice join the tacos on the floor as Dean rushes to his brother's side. He kneels next to him, placing the younger man's head in his lap.

"Sammy, come on Sammy," Dean says, tapping his brother's cheek in an attempt to rouse him. He runs a hand over the back of Sam's head and it comes away bloody. He intensifies his efforts to awaken his brother.

"Dean…" Sam speaks in a quiet, confused slur. "Wha… why?" He loses consciousness again.

"No Sammy, stay with me," Dean commands, trying in vain to revive his brother. "Cas! I need help! Cas!" Dean screams turning his attention back to his brother. He doesn't notice when Castiel arrives a few seconds later.

"Dean?" Castiel questions, kneeling beside his lover.

"I found him like this," Dean explains. "I don't know how long he's been lying here. I think he has some kind of head trauma. Can you fix him? Healing isn't exactly my area of expertise."

"I will try," Castiel states nodding. He places his hands above Sam's head. At first nothing happens but then the angel's hands begin to glow a haunting blue color. Dean watches as the wound on his brother's head knits itself together. The blood on Dean's hands is the only remaining evidence of any damage.

Sam groans once then the mask of pain on his face relaxes.

"He is fine," Castiel informs Dean. "Merely sleeping." They move Sam to the bed and exit the room, locking the door as they leave.

Castiel is about to return to his other duties when Dean grabs his arm.

"How close was he to dying?" Dean asks. His face is blank but, his eyes reveal his inner turmoil. Castiel studies Dean's face a moment before answering.

"Had you arrived half an hour later he would have been in a coma. A few hours later and he would have been dead." Castiel tells him. His voice is steady but not unkind.

"Crap," Dean feels like his insides are shaking apart as he thinks about how close he came to losing his brother. If he died Dean wouldn't be able to just bring him back. Sam would be completely out of his reach if his soul headed toward the pearly gates. Even if he landed in Dean's domain, which he really hoped Sam didn't, it could take Dean awhile to find his brother in the chaos of hell. He didn't even want to think about what could happen to his brother in the meantime. He could resurrect Sam if someone made a deal but they'd already overused that option.

"Shit," Dean suddenly punches the wall. The building shakes. As quickly as it came his anger leaves him. He collapses in on himself, slipping down the wall, until he is seated on the floor against it. Castiel kneels close to Dean, his presence reassuring.

"What am I supposed to do Cas?" Dean asks, his head in his hands. "I brought Sam here so he wouldn't get himself killed but, the stubborn ass is bound and determined to get himself killed anyway. I can't let him die but he refuses to understand. It kills me every time I go in that room, Cas. Do you know what it's like to have the kid who you've been protecting since he was in diapers look at you like you're lower than scum? Like he would enjoy wiping you off the face of the planet? It sucks Cas. I sucks so much. I don't know if I can do it anymore."

Cas wraps his arms around Dean and Dean buries him face in the angel's neck. He buries himself away from the pain and guilt that come with being Lucifer. He breathes in the scent of his angel and tries to calm down.

That's when he gets The Idea, the idea that's going to change everything. He slowly unwraps himself from Castiel's arms and heads back toward his brother's room.

"Dean?" Cas asks, his head tilted to the side.

"I can make this better," Dean explains, speaking quickly like an man slightly unhinged. "I can fix it. He can't be mad at me if he can't remember what I did." Cas looks skeptical but follows Dean back into Sam's room anyway. That's one of the things Dean loves about Cas: he'll stand by him even when he thinks Dean is doing something stupid and be there to catch Dean when if blows up in his face.

Dean stands near the end of Sam's bed. When Dean lays his hands on his brother's temples the younger Winchester begins to awaken.

"Wha…?" Sam starts to ask, his mind still jumbled from sleep and his earlier accident.

"Sh, Sammy you're ok ," Dean tries to sooth his brother. He can't have him freaking out before he's finished. "I'm sorry. I can't lose you again."

Sam wonders what Dean is apologizing for. Suddenly he feels a pressure inside his head. It feels like someone is kneading his mind like bread dough. The pressure becomes a pulling sensation and then it becomes painful. His head swims. Dean is repeating over and over again "I'm sorry". The pain and dizziness grows. He's struggling to stay afloat in his own head but the waves of darkness get to be too much. One more wave of pain and the inky blackness overwhelms him.

***

"_Mr. Winchester" Sam hears from above him shortly after he wakes. He's lying in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar place looking up at someone unfamiliar. "Mr. Winchester, you're at St. Mary's hospital. I'm Dr. Babar, I'm your doctor. You've been in an accident but, you're going to be fine," the doctor tells him. _

'_What accident?' Sam wonders. 'I don't remember an accident. Then again, I don't remember who Mr. Winchester is either.'_

AN: I hope you enjoyed that chapter. Next one should be up in two weeks. There will be a time jump ahead 13 years. Until next time : )


	4. Chapter 3

This Chapter Warnings: OCs (but they're plot devices and not Mary Sues)

AN: Tera Earth on asked an interesting question: did Dean intend on making Sam forget that much?

Short answer: Yes. Longer answer: Dean wanted to get rid of all of Sam's memories relating to the supernatural (to keep his brother safe). Their family started hunting when Sam was 6 months old. So whether Sam realized it at the time or not, most of his memories are connected to the supernatural so Dean made him forget a lot. Not everything, bits and pieces came back to him. His memory isn't completely gone but has some major holes.

This chapter gives a window into Sam's new life. There will be more explanation of what happened during the time jump in chapter 5. Without further ado Enjoy!

13 years later:

About 50 miles west of Palo Alto, lays the small town of Menlo Park. It developed in the midst of the Northern California forests nearly 150 years ago. The forest still surrounds it, almost like a blanket. Approximately 37,000 people live there, most of them families. The town isn't a bustling metropolis but, it's not in the middle of nowhere either. It's just to the left of the action. In a way, that's what makes it the perfect place to hide in plain sight.

It's a calm Saturday afternoon in Menlo Park. It's still hot enough to feel like summer but, an occasional chilly wind reminds the towns people that fall will be here soon. In certain places the laughter of children can be heard as they try to hold on to these last days of freedom. Adults stand on the sidelines making quiet conversation. There is also the intermittent call of a bird or dog which interrupts the silence.

A man emerges from the dense forest. His short brown hair just barely moves in the wind. His eyes are hidden by his dark sunglasses. He is dressed casually in blue-jeans, a brown leather coat and a black shirt. An amulet shaped like a tiny golden head hangs on a black cord around his neck.

His pace is steady, even as he walks up or down hills his gait remains unchanged. His eyes are firmly focused on his destination in the distance. He walks like this for a few miles until he suddenly turns and approaches a two level house that looks as though it is made of tan stone. He pushes open the short white gate. The lawn is a healthy green with toys scattered around it. He steps onto the porch and rings the bell.

Another man appears at the door. This man is taller but, they appear to be around the same age. Small creases are just beginning to form around the other man's eyes. They are more laugh lines than wrinkles, the evidence of a pleasant life. Both of their faces break into smiles.

"Dean," the man inside the house says, pulling the visitor into a hug.

"Dude. Don't turn this into a chick flick." Dean says stepping into living room. "It hasn't been that long since you've seen me."

"It's been three weeks," Sam argues. "Dude you missed two chances for a free home cooked meal. You wouldn't even explain. I thought you were in some sort of trouble."

"Now Sammy you worry too much. It was just work stuff," Dean tells him, brushing off his brother's concern.

"What does that mean, Dean? What is 'work stuff'?" Sam asks using air quotes.

"Work stuff means work stuff, the stuff I do while at work. It shouldn't be a hard concept for college boy like you," Dean teases.

Sam is about to open his mouth to argue but, their conversation is interrupted by a small ball of energy and noise rocketing toward them.

"Uncle De!" yells a tiny voice.

Dean turns, just in time to catch the young girl as she jumps into his arms. She wraps her arms around his neck as he spins her in around twice before letting her lean back so that he can look at her.

"Hey Bin. You've gotten so big since I've last seen you. What's your secret?"

Robin Eve Winchester wasn't especially tall but, she was one of the tallest kids in her 2nd grade class. She was very proud of that fact and hoped to one day be "as tall as Daddy." She even liked to make herself taller in the short black boots that Dean had gotten her for her birthday. She'd asked her parents for them for 3 months before Dean finally decided to risk her mother's wrath and gave them to her as a birthday present. At the moment though, she is bootless, her feet clad only in white socks. She wears jeans and a t-shirt that reads "Homework is evil. It must be stopped." Her brown hair, so light that it sometimes looked blond, is put into a ponytail. It looks as though she has a little exploding fire cracker coming from her head.

"Mama says that I'm so big because I always eat all my vegetables." She leans in and attempts to whisper in her uncle's ear "but I feed them to Dottie sometimes so that can't be it." As is common with children she doesn't exactly have a handle on whispering yet. She imitated the hissing quality that most people's voice have when they whispering but, didn't lower the volume enough. Dottie is their black and white spotted mutt dog that Sam had gotten from the rescue center when the children were young. Since Dean is hasn't been nearly licked to death by 90 pounds of exited dog he assumes that she's probably in the back yard soaking up the last rays of the summer sun.

Robin giggles and Dean spins her around one more time before setting her down.

Standing a few feet way is a small boy. He looks about 5 years old and slightly on the cubby side. He's dressed in kaki short, gym shoes and a shirt with a cartoon character on it that Dean doesn't recognize. Dean kneels down so he's at eye-level.

"Hey Nate-man come give your uncle a hug." The boy smiles at the request and rushes into his uncle's arms. Nathan Jesse Winchester is the spitting image of his father that age. It amazes Dean sometimes how much they look alike. Nate, however, seems to suffer from a crippling shyness that Dean doesn't remember affecting Sam. It's probably not going to last. When he's a teenager he's probably going to be a stubborn and argumentative as his old man.

"Uncle Dean?" the boy begins nervously.

"Yeah Nate?"

"I'm taking good care of the present you gave me. Look." The child rummages in his pockets and pulls out an impala just like his uncle's except that this one is only 3 inches long. "I cleaned it jus' like you showed me 'cause proper car mayenence is important." He holds the car out to his uncle, waiting for inspection. Dean puts on a serious face and makes a big show of spinning the wheels and checking for dust.

He smiles big and proclaims: "This car is in marvelous condition. Truly amazing. The best kept car I've seen in years." Nate's nervous face breaks into an ear-to-ear grin of pride. Nate begins to walk off, his 5 year old attention span having run out, when his sister interjects with a question.

"Uncle Dean, where's uncle Cas?" Her face is full of confusion, as if she just realized that he is missing. Dean's face flashes a 'oh shit' look but, he covers it quickly. Sam is the only one who notices.

"He had to work today, Bin. Someone had to man the fort while I'm indulging in your mother's amazing pie." She accepts that answer and walks off to play with her brother trailing behind her.

Dean and Sam are left in the living room alone once again. An uncomfortable silence fills the room. Sam is the one who breaks it.

"So… is there a… problem between you and Lucas?" Sam asks.

"No Sammy…" Dean informs his brother.

"Because I'm sure he could forgive you if you did something stupid. You just need to do a little groveling. Did you forget your anniversary? Last year I…"

"No Sam," Dean interrupts. "I made dinner and we had awesome anniversary sex. Work is just crazy right now. I was barely able to get away. There was no way both Cas and I could get away. We're seriously fine." Sam gives him a skeptical look but, doesn't argue. Dean quickly changes the subject. "Now come on let's see what mouth watering things your wife is cooking."

Sam and Dean head for the kitchen, their concerns forgotten for the moment.

The kitchen was one of the few areas of the house where Sam and his wife had decided to indulge. Sam's in-laws had both been chefs so his wife had learned to cook at an early age. She finds cooking really relaxing and loves having a big area in which to work. The kitchen is covered with black and white checkered tile. Wooden cabinets and black marble counters take up most of the wall on one side of the room. On the other side of the room, a large 6-burner stove takes up most of the space. On the smaller wall, opposite the door, is the silver double-door fridge.

The most beautiful thing in that kitchen at this moment however is Diana Tobias-Winchester (at least in Sam's opinion). Her dark hair falls just past her shoulder blades and is held back by a plain black scrunchie. She was dressed casually in jeans and a well-fitting purple t-shirt. She is pretty tall, only an inch or so shorter than Dean. She has an enticing figure. She isn't model thin but, far from overweight. She falls somewhere in between, probably best labeled as curvy. She is currently focused on chopping vegetables atop one a large wooden cutting board. The pair brothers stand just inside the kitchen doorway, making sure to stay out of Diana's way.

"Hey sis, did you miss me?" Dean asks, a huge grin on his face. She doesn't even look up.

"Not really. I was just getting used to having leftovers," Diana replies, her voice monotone.

"Oh come on. Don't tell me you weren't worried," Dean says still smiling.

"Nope. Unlike my worry wart of a husband I knew that you'd eventually come back when you got hungry enough." She scoops up the vegetables and throws them into a boiling pot on the stove.

"You know you love me," Dean declares.

"Only because it was part of the fine print when I married you brother," Diana teases. "If I'd known that the tall hunk came with a shorter motor mouth I would have reconsidered the offer, no matter how good Sam is in bed." She turns back to the stove. Dean suppresses a laugh. His brother frowns.

"Oh Sam don't pout. I'm just kidding" She kissed Sam briefly on the lips as she passed him. His face softens. "And it is nice to see you Dean. Now both of you out of the kitchen before the pies end up burning. "

"You heard the woman, Sammy. For the sake of the pie we need to vamoose." Dean is still grinning as they head out of the house to the backyard.

On the back patio are two well worn lawn chairs. They each take a seat and Sam hands both of them a beer from the cooler on the ground between them. They both just sit for a moment without saying anything. The silence is comfortable, as if they'd done this a hundred times before.

"So, that Diana," Dean begins with a mischievous look on his face. "She's a hottie. You hit that yet?" Sam nearly cokes on his beer.

"Dean, I've been married to her for nearly 9 years and we've had two children together. You and Cas babysat the kids on our last anniversary just so I could hit that. So to answer your question: yeah Dean, I hit that." Dean tries to hide a smirk by taking a sip of his beer. They slip back into silence for awhile. Something seems to be weighing heavily on Sam's mind.

"Stop it," Dean suddenly demands, shocking Sam out of his thoughts.

"Stop what?" Sam asks confused.

"The brooding. Stop the brooding. You're nearly 40 years old it's time to stop making teenage girl faces, seriously."

"Sorry" Sam apologizes looking a bit sheepish. "I've just got a lot on my mind right now?"

"Let me guess, you're going to act like a little girl until you get this off your chest right?" Sam doesn't answer but, Dean continues talking anyway. "So I'll listen if it's the only way to turn you back into a man, Samantha." Sam glares at him half-heartedly while he tries to figure out where to begin.

"Where were you for the 3 weeks?" he suddenly blurts out. "I tried to call you but, my calls kept going straight to voice mail. I was worried."

"Sammy, I was out of cell range on a business trip. That's all. It's nothing to be worried about." Dean tries to reassure his brother. "Why is this bothering you so much now? I've been out of cell range before."

"I started having The Dreams again, just like after my accident. I see things that I know aren't real, couldn't possibly be real but, they feel so real. I see monsters that are so obscure that I had to look through 30 pages of Google search to just find their name. Yet in my dreams I know exactly how to kill them.

I watch people die. I can't remember ever seeing them before but, sometimes I know their names. I feel like I know them. Madison, Ron, Meg, Pamela, Andy…

Sometimes it's you Dean. Some nights I watched you get ripped apart by things I can't even see then, I hold you mangled body. Other times it's me. I die. I feel the knife slice into me before everything goes black. It's driving me crazy, Dean. They feel like memories but, they can't be. I don't want them to be but, for all I know they could be. There's still so much I don't remember from before the accident. You think after 13 years I'd be used to having a memory that looks like Swiss cheese but, sometimes it's still hard. I hate it. "

Sam finally falls silent. He fills a little empty now that all the problems that have been bothering him are out in the open but, it also feels good. He feels cleansed. It's like all his problems were poisoning him from the inside. Now they're out and they can't hurt him anymore.

Dean tries to think of something to tell his brother to make this ok but, nothing is coming to mind. He wants to tell him that everything will be all right. He wants to but, he's not sure it's true.

"Boys, time for dinner." The call comes from the house, saving Dean from having to say anything. They both head back inside.

'Why can't I have one normal dinner?' Dean thinks as he enters the house. 'Come on, even the Prince of Hell deserves a little R&R every once in awhile.'

AN: Lucas/Cas is Castiel (in case you didn't get that). Dean just introduced him as Lucas because he could still use the nickname Cas and it won't raise suspicion the way an odd name like Cas would. Please review. Castiel will be back next chapter as will the sexins. Until next time : )


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:  
This Chapter Warnings: graphic male on male sex

AN: Here's Chapter 4. Time for the sexin's. Enjoy!

By the time Dean finally leaves his brother's house the light from the nearly full moon is outshining the street lights. Nate and Robin are standing on the porch. They lean against their parents' legs as they fight against sleep, which normally would have claimed them hours ago. They devote one hand to waving while using the other to rub their tired eyes. Dean waves back until the house is out of sight.

Dean walks down the street back the same way he traveled several hours ago. He walks past the park now empty of children. Some of the houses Dean walks past are dark but others are still lit. The noise of happy families and chattering televisions spills onto the street accompanying the sounds of barking dogs and chirping cicadas. Occasionally there's the rev of an engine as a car drives by.

Past the houses is the small wooded area at the edge of town. Dean walks behind a thick clump of trees and doesn't come out the other side. Instead Dean emerges from a different clump of trees in a different forest nearly a thousand miles away.

The forest here is visibly distinct. It's darker, for one thing. The trees here are bigger too and much older, bordering on ancient. They block out some of the moonlight. It's also quieter. The woods near Sam's house were surrounded by civilization. If you walked straight in any direction, you'd hit a rode within a half hour. Here you could walk for days and not see any signs of humanity. Dean likes it that way. That's why he chose to build a home here.

The impala sits parked outside the small ranch style house. Dean makes his way inside the house easily despite the darkness. He doesn't bother to lock the front door. They're in the middle of nowhere. He's not exactly worried about burglars and locks wouldn't be much help in keeping out what he is worried about. There are a couple dozen spells cast on the house for that purpose.

Dean toes off his shoes in the entryway and tosses his coat on the couch. He nearly collapses on the first soft surface he can find. He's bordering on exhaustion. There have been whispers of an impending attack on hell by heaven for a while now but, only in the last month had there seemed to be anything more than whispers. So he'd spent weeks in and out of meetings trying to coordinate the movement of his troops. He hadn't had even a minute to himself in nearly a week. The kicker was that they hadn't even found anything. Some might say it was like chasing a ghost but, Dean had done that sort of thing and it had been much easier. It wasn't so much the constant motion that wore him out but, the constant stress. Being on edge and full of adrenaline for three weeks straight was hard to maintain even now that he was Lord of Hell.

Now he learns that Sammy having the dreams again, obviously a bad sign. He's spent the last 3 weeks on a wild goose chase and at the same time Sam's memories are starting pop up from where Dean had carefully locked them away. It could be a coincidence. Yeah and Siegfried and Roy were just friends.

He'd bet the impala that Zachariah has his fat little fingers stuck in this somehow. This is his fault. He's gotta make sure Sam and his family stay safe. He hopes that he hasn't failed them.

Warm, familiar hands keep him from collapsing. They gently lead him into the large bedroom. He's slowly lowered to the floor and maneuvered so that he's leaning back against the side of the bed. His companion walks around him to sit on the mattress at his back. The hands make quick work of his shirt and begin to skillfully massage his shoulders.

"Cas," Dean breathes a sigh of pleasure.

"Yes, Dean. I'm here." He runs kisses down his lover's neck. "You're so tense. Tell me what's wrong." Dean generally isn't one for sharing but, he'll make an exception when Castiel's hands are making him feel so good.

"It's Sam." Cas just nods, listening attentively. His hands continue their pleasant motions. "I have to take care of him. It's my fault. I have to make sure Sam and his family are safe." Cas raises an eyebrow at this. Dean knows without even looking at him.

Castiel moves Dean's head so that it's facing sideways. Then he leans forward and presses their lips together. Dean understands what he's trying to say. 'I love you. Everything will be ok. We're in this together.' Dean leans into the comforting kiss. Cas eventually pulls away and they continue the massage in a relaxed silence. Dean closes his eyes to better focus on the sensations caused by those warm, nimble hands.

It is quite awhile into the massage when Dean feels something poking him in the back, just below his shoulders. Castiel's hands are on his shoulders what's…? Oh. Dean pleasure-muddled brain makes a sudden realization.

"Cas are you naked?" A devious smile spreads over his lover's face, something he'd picked up from Dean over the years.

"Yes," he replied simply.

"Can I ask why?" Dean questions with an equally devious grin. There's really only one reason for Cas to be naked but, Dean wants to hear him say it.

"I was hoping that once I was done giving you a massage we could move on to other relaxing activities."

"Seems like a plan." Dean responds. "Let's move on to phase two."

"As you wish" Castiel says his smile getting even wider. He helps Dean stand and they make quick work of the elder Winchester's remaining clothing before laying him out on their large, plush bed. He pulls the lube from the dresser next to the bed. Dean starts to sit up but, Castiel gently pushes him back down.

"No Dean. This is about you. Relax and let me make you feel good." He kisses Dean again, swallowing any potential arguments before getting back to the task at hand.

He covers his fingers with lube. He really doesn't need to be stretched much but, Cas knows how hot it gets Dean to watch. He spreads his legs, making sure that Dean has a good view as he slowly pushes one slick finger into himself. He focuses on the sensations, letting the barriers that sometimes stand between him and the feelings of his vessel fall away. Little sounds of pleasure escape as he stretches himself open. He works slowly, increasing the anticipation of both parties for the time when Castiel's fingers will be replaced by Dean's hard cock. By the time Cas is ready Dean is extremely aroused.

Dean's cock points straight up from where he lays on the bed. Cas carefully straddles his lover's lap so that Dean's cock is just barely pressing against his hole. He lowers himself bit by bit. Cas gasps as he slowly becomes filled. Dean moans at the feeling of tight warmth. Castiel pauses once Dean is fully sheathed inside him.

He leans forward while pulling Dean up and their lips meet in the middle. Then he alternates kisses on the lips with kisses, licks and small bites on Dean's neck and collar. Dean instinctively arches up toward the sensations, unintentionally hitting Castiel's sweet spot, making the angel gasp in pleasure. Dean wiggles his hips causing his cock to repeatedly hit his lover's prostate. Castiel moans loudly. Dean can feel it from where their bodies are pressed together.

Castiel takes one final nip at Dean's neck before pulling back. Dean lays panting on the bed. Cas carefully lifts himself up until just the head of Dean's cock is inside him and then surprises Dean by coming down quickly. They both moan as Castiel is once again filled. He is still for only a moment before he repeats the action more quickly. He soon finds a pace that leaves Dean barely able to breathe.

Sounds of gasping and half-formed moans fill the room as Castiel rises and falls on Dean's cock. The pace brings them both to orgasm. Dean comes first with a strangled shout of what might have been Castiel's name. The sensation of his lover's warm seed flowing into him has Cas flowing quickly. Dean collapsed boneless on the bed. Cas pulls himself off Dean's deflating cock. His hole is pink and glistening with cum. He waves a hand, using his angel powers to clean up the mess caused by their lovemaking, and lays down next to Dean. Dean curls around him instinctively.

"What did I do to deserve you?" Dean mutters his expression blissful. He's still a bit high on the feelings of pleasure.

"You are a good man, Dean Winchester. You have always tried to do the right thing. You have spent a lifetime being forced to make hard choices that no one should have had to make but, you have always done the best that you are able. That is all that can be asked of you. You did what you thought was best to protect Sam, what happens next will not be your fault. I know you have trouble believing that but, I will be by your side trying to convince you as long as you want me."

"I'll never stop wanting you, Cas" Dean responds.

"Then I will be yours forever" Cas says in a quiet voice. It's as if he's afraid that saying it too loud cause this all to fall apart. Dean sleeps for the first time in weeks, nestled in the warmth of his lover.

Beams of light are just barely beginning to seep into Dean and Castiel's heavily curtained bedroom when the rhythmic beeping of Dean's phone breaks through the quiet. Dean's sleep addled mind doesn't realize what the noise is until the third ring. He slowly and sleepily makes his way to the pile of cloths on the floor beside the bed. He digs through the pockets looking for his phone.

"Damn it" he mutters. "Stupid underlings. I never get a fuckin' vacation. Have to call me about every little thing. If this isn't important some one's going to get a char-broiled ass."

Castiel just smiles as he lover moves around the room ranting naked. Dean finally picks up the phone right before it goes to voicemail.

"What?" he barks into it.

"" he hears come from the other end of the phone.

"Sammy?" Dean tries to remain calm but, he's never heard so much fear in his brother's voice. "Calm down I can't understand what you're telling me. What wrong?" He hears his brother take a deep breath on the other end of the phone.

"They're gone, Dean. He took them."

"He took who? Who is 'he'?" Dean responds. He has an idea but, he hopes he's wrong.

"I don't know. He was a white guy, balding, wore a suit. He took Diana, Nate and Robin. He said that you would know how to get them back. Where are they? Who was he? What's going on, Dean?" Hearing Sam so worried is close to physically painful for Dean.

"I'll be right there Sam. Just hold on." Castiel understands that something is wrong because he is already off the bed and handing Dean a fresh set of clothing. Dean silently nods his thanks. They both quickly get dressed and pile into the impala. He pulls out with a spray of gravel and heads for the trees surrounding the house. Just like yesterday the trees transport them instantly to the woods on the edge of Sam's small town.

'I just hope it's not already too late' Dean thinks as he heads for Sam's house as fast as he can.

AN: Ooo! Cliff hanger. Sorry. We'll get some answers next chapter which should be up the first week of March. At least Cas is back. Cas will probably stay around for awhile. Yay! I hope you liked this chapter. Please review, they make my day. Until next time : )


	6. Chapter 5

This Chapter Warnings: mild violence

AN: I wanted to post earlier but today was really hectic. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Sam stands on the porch with a half-asleep Nathan leaning against him. His wife is standing next to him. Robin is leaning against her. Both children are waving at their departing uncle as enthusiastically as their tired little bodies will let them. Dean seemed to shine slightly in the darkness. Sam blames it on the street lights. Dean walks down the street, having assured his brother that "I parked just down the street Sammy, chill". They watch him until he disappears into the darkness.

The next task at hand is to get the children into bed. That's like herding cats, possibly harder. At least the cats won't talk back. Protests of "we're not sleepy" are not all that believable when they're interrupted by yawns. That doesn't keep the kids from using it as an argument. Nearly an hour of arguments, whining and bribes later, the children are finally asleep.

Sam changes into a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt to sleep in. While brushing his teeth he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He's surprised to see the dark circles under his eyes although he shouldn't be with the way he's been tossing and turning lately. He quickly finishes in the bathroom and makes his way to his bedroom.

His wife is already sitting up on her side of the bed reading a thick, hard covered book. He lifts the covers and slides in next to her. As the bed dips she instinctively moved closer to Sam without looking up from her book. They lie next to each other in pleasant silence for awhile. Eventually, Diana finishes the chapter and places the book on the night stand.

"Night hun" she says to Sam. She kisses him on the check and turns over on her side. Within minutes she's asleep. Sam is dead tired and feels ready to drop but, when he actually tries he finds that sleep eludes him. Instead of falling asleep he just lays there staring up at the ceiling. He'd much prefer a view of the inside of his eyelids.

His mind keeps returning to the events of 13 years ago.

"_Mr. Winchester," Sam hears a voice above him say. He looks up and finds an unfamiliar man standing there in a lab coat. At least he thinks the man in unfamiliar. His mind seems strangely empty at the moment. It's like drawing a sudden blank at someone's name except instead of just a name it's everything. "Mr. Winchester, you're in St. Ann's Hospital. You've been in an accident but, you're going to be fine," the man (doctor?) tells him. _

'_What accident?' Sam wonders. 'Is that why I can't remember anything?' _

_That's when another man walks into the room. He's smaller than Sam with short brown hair and piercing green eyes. A million images flash through Sam's mind accompanied by one word 'Dean'. _

"_It's going to be okay, Sammy," Dean (His brother? Sam thinks so but isn't sure) tries to reassure him. "We were on a road trip. Do you remember that?" Sam wracks his brain. He vaguely remembers the hours spent sitting next to his brother driving in a shiny black car with the music pounding. Sam nods in response to his brother's question. "There was an accident. You hit your head. That's why everything's so fuzzy. The doctors don't know if it's going to get better. There's going to be a lot of things that you'll have to relearn but, I'll be holding your hand the whole was Samantha" he teased._

And, teasing aside, he did.

Dean had helped him study to retake the LSATs:

"_I'm done," Sam says standing up from the desk that Dean had specifically bought for Sam to use while taking his practice LSAT test. He hands the test to Dean who quickly scores it. _

"_157 Sam. You're getting worse." Dean isn't being mean about it but, it still makes Sam angry." _

"_Dean, can I go to bed? I've done a dozen of these test and we're obviously getting nowhere." _

"_No way Sammy. It's all in that big brain of yours we've just got to dig it out. Now clam down and we'll do one more. Ok?" Sam sighed, not in the mood to argue and sat down to take another test. _

"_Very good, Sammy," Dean says teasingly after he's done grading Sam's next practice exam. "You got a 169. After four years you're still a college boy." _

On the official test Sam had gotten a 171. As much as Dean refused to take credit, he's sure that he wouldn't have done so well without Dean's help.

Dean had been there when he been interviewing for admission to the Stanford law program:

_They arrive in front of the graduate admissions building 20 minutes before his interview is scheduled. They sit in the car in silence for a little while Sam tries psych himself up. _

"_So how do I look, Dean?" Sam asks his brother nervously._

"_Dude, ditch the tie and chill out. They'll love you and if they don't then fuck them. Any school is lucky to have you." Sam nods. His brother's confidence is infectious. _

_45 minutes later when he comes out of the building, upset because he is sure that he'd completely blown the interview, Dean is there waiting. He takes Sam out to his favorite place to eat and then to a bar where they drink, flirt with girls and forget all about the stupid interview. _

A week later a letter from Stanford came and he found out that he was accepted after all.

Dean had even been there when he'd had his first fight with Diana:

"_You need to apologize, Sammy."_

"_What?!" Sam had expected Dean to be on his side. "Why should I apologize I didn't do anything wrong?"_

"_Dude, you're a guy. When it comes to women, you were born wrong and will always be wrong. That's the first thing you gotta learn about relationships, bro. She will always be right."_

"_That's not fair" Sam whines. He wonders if relationships had been this complicated before he lost his memories. _

"_Life's not fair, Sammy. Think about it. Is this little fight worth losing your girlfriend?" Sam shakes his head. "Then man up and apologize."_

Sam follows his advice. Three years later Dean tells that story at Sam and Diana's wedding.

Not that everything was sunshine and roses. They didn't always get along. It would be weird if they did, but there were other issues. There were things that were just weird.

_Every Friday Dean picks Sam up after his classes and they celebrate the end of another mind-numbing week of school for Sam. Sometimes, mostly on days when Sam gets out a little early, he sees Dean on the phone. Often Dean is shouting at them but, the second he sees Sam he'll smile and the phone will quickly disappear. If Sam asks about the call Dean will tell him "it was just someone I work with Sammy, don't worry about it." If Sam continues to push Dean plays it off as a joke until he eventually snaps at his brother in an icy tone that makes a shiver run down his Sam's spine. Dean turns the music up and later acts as if nothing happened. _

To this day Sam doesn't know what Dean does for a living. He's learned that it's easier if he just doesn't ask.

That's not all. Back when they shared an apartment odd things happened all the time.

_Sometimes, especially when Dean doesn't think Sam will be home for hours, Sam will hear strange sounds coming from Dean's room. Most of the time, he hears hissing, like Dean has a hundred snakes lock up in his room but the hissing is rhythmic almost like a language. Other times there are just noises, deep grunts and groans. It sounds like someone is either having a very pleasant time in there or a very painful one. Sam isn't sure which one he'd prefer. Every time he opens the door, trying to catch Dean in the act, Dean is alone. Sam would ask about the voices and Dean would respond "What voices?" Sam can never tell if Dean is lying. _

It made Sam feel like he was going crazy.

However, the worst thing by far was the dreams.

_A few months after Sam woke up in the hospital, Sam is ready to give up on fully recovering his memory. He can usually remember people, like his dad, and some events, like on his 10__th__ birthday when Dean stole a Power Rangers cake for him, but huge chunks of his past were still blurry or missing altogether. He knows they moved around a lot during his childhood but, he can't remember why. The only thing he remembers about the fire that killed his girlfriend was the intense heat. Where was Jess? How did he out unhurt? Why didn't he save Jess? It was frustrating._

_It gets worse when he starts having dreams that feel like memories. He sees Jessica burning to death on the ceiling her stomach sliced opened, her blood dripping down onto his face. He sees himself shoot his brother, with rock salt of all things, and watches as the force propelled him through a wall. He sees Dean die over and over again in increasingly outrageous ways that would be funny if they weren't so disturbing. He sees the horribly mangled bodies of people who he can't remember but it feels like he knows them. He sees ghosts, werewolf, vampires and other things that he would have sworn he'd never seen before except for the fact that he can list most of them by name. None of it makes sense. It can't be real but it feels real. It doesn't feel like just a dream. _

_He doesn't tell Dean. Dean finds out because he hears Sam screaming in his sleep. Sam was afraid that Dean would think he was crazy but, Dean listens with a minimum amount of teasing. Then, he takes Sam to some sort of sleep therapist. She basically just watches him sleep and gives him a special pillow to use for a while. Despite Sam's skepticism, the dreams go away. _

Until now.

Now the dreams were back with a vengeance. The high definition gore-fest had come pouring back into his head as if it had never left. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in so long. He barely could get three hours uninterrupted. He'd tried to compensate with little naps throughout the day. That didn't help much. One weekend he'd slept napped for a total of 12 hours, albeit not continuous hours. That had barely taken the edge off. He hadn't bothered his family with the problem. He hadn't wanted them to worry. He'd tried to contact Dean, hoping that they could fix it the same way they had before but, his phone kept going straight to voicemail, until today.

There was one thing different than before. He'd wanted to tell Dean about it but, he he'd been interrupted before he could. There was a man. The man himself wasn't new. He'd seen the man in his dreams before but, only briefly. He'd barely even thought about him. He'd been focused more on the dreams filled with blood. Now, however, the man was appearing more and more. These didn't seem like memories. There was no setting, no context just a large balding man. Normally the man was… yelling isn't exactly the word. There was scolding and threats but, it was all in this sharp quiet voice. He would scold him for abandoning them to join with "that abomination." He promises Sam that if he returns to them all will be forgiven. He threatens that if Sam doesn't return they will burn everything around him until they get what they want.

He feels like he should know who the man is. He just can't remember. There's a name on the tip of his tongue, lying just out of reach. He's wondering where he could have met such a deranged and obviously dangerous man when it hits him.

"Zachariah" he whispers unexplainably sure that this is the man's name. There's a sudden flash of light, so bright that Sam has to cover his eyes. The house shakes for a moment. The light recedes. There, standing at the foot of the bed, is the man from his dreams. Half-a-dozen others are also scattered around his bedroom. Sam is speechless as the as the intruders begin to rummage through his house.

"Aw. Look little Sammy is all grown up. Got himself a perfect house and a lovely wife." Two burly men drag Diana, still half-asleep, from the bed. She kicks and claws at them but it's futile. Two more goons appear carrying the confused and frightened children. "Oh and look, kids. I wonder if they're as big a pain in the ass as their old man." Sam tries to get to his children. "No no. Don't get up." Sam's body freezes and try as he might he can't move. "This will all go much smoother if you just cooperate."

"Who are you? What do you want?" Sam finally gasps out.

"Oh Sam, I'm hurt. How could you forget your old friend Zachariah? You called me, Sam. You know what I want. The end of days has been but off for too long. It's time to stop screwing around. All we need is your brother for the party to begin. You get your brother to get in line and play his part like the good little Prince of Darkness that he is..." while Zachariah is busy making his speech Diana slowly moves toward the bedside table. She grabs a pen and jabs it into the neck of the man closest to her. The man doesn't even flinch. He backhands Diana across the face, knocking her to the floor before calmly pulling the pen free.

Sam uses the distraction to try to make a grab for his children but, he's knocked flat on his back by a guy who looks like he could play for the NFL. He lays on the floor dazed.

"Not a smart move Sam." Zachariah says as he stands over him. "Your family and I are going to go on a little trip now. Call me if you decide to be more cooperative." There's another flash of light and Sam is alone. He tries to stand but everything spins. He attempts to get to his feet once again but, the blackness encroaching on his vision makes it difficult. He tries to fight it but, the darkness wins and he loses consciousness.

He stays that way until the next morning when he is shocked back to awareness by a car honking outside. He awakens groggy and confused. Suddenly the events of last night come rushing back and he goes into panic mode. He races through the house hoping that it was only a dream, hoping that his kids and wife will be there. They aren't. He checks every room in the house again. They still aren't there. A third time. Still nothing.

He forces himself to calm down. He needs to breathe. He needs to think. How is he going to get his family back? What can he do?

'Call Dean,' his brain advises. 'He'll know what to do.' He finds his phone lying next to an overturned table and dials Dean's number. It rings, and rings and rings. He's almost given up and started panicking again when his brother finally picks up. The conversation is a blur for Sam. He doesn't even realize that that Dean has hung up when he hears the door bell ring. He unsteadily makes his way downstairs. His brother is standing on the porch. His body radiates tension. Behind Dean is his "partner in more than just a business sense", Cas. He's nearly as tense as his brother.

"Sammy, what happened?" Dean asks as soon as Sam opens the door.

"They're gone Dean. He took them," Sam is close to yelling.

"Who?" Dean asks. "Who took them?" The neighbors are beginning to stare.

"The man, Dean! THE MAN took them," Sam is getting histerical at this point.

"Sammy…" Dean begins but Cas cuts him off.

"We should go inside where our conversation will be more private" Cas says. Dean looks around and nods. Sam follows them inside then back up the stairs. Any conversation they have along the way is lost to Sam. He feels like he's about to fall down. Cas must notice because he slowly lowers him into a sitting position at the end of the bed. He runs his hand along the back of his head and suddenly Sam cringes. Cas' finger come away with spots of red. He kneels down to look into Sam's eyes.

"What are you…?" Sam begins to ask.

"Hush," Cas commands. "He has a concussion." The other man finally says to Dean as he stands.

"Can you…?" Dean makes a gesture that Sam doesn't understand but, Castiel must because he responds with a sort of half bow half nod. He places his hand back on Sam's head.

"What are you…?" Sam tries to ask again but, this time Dean hushes him.

"Quiet, Sammy. Let the man work. " Cas is muttering words that Sam can't make out. Suddenly, all the dizziness and pain recedes. It's like a fog is lifted from his mind.

"You ok now Sammy?" Dean asks him. Sam nods. "Ok then, put on some pants and we'll get to figuring this thing out." Sam looks down and realizes that he's still dressed in the t-shirt and boxers that he went to bed in. He quickly dresses, trying to keep his modesty as intact as possible while dressing in front of the two other men.

"So what happened?" Dean asks once again when Sam is finally fully dressed.

"There were a least a dozen people; they just appeared out of nowhere right into my bedroom. There was this one guy. He started making threats. He was talking to me like I should know him. He took my family, said I'd get them back when you 'play your part'. What was he talking about?"

"What'd the guy look like, Sammy?" Dean asks ignoring Sam's question.

"He was a white guy, mostly bald but the hair that was left was white. Sort of fat…"

"Did you get a name?"

"He said his name was Zachariah."

"Shit!" Dean suddenly swore. "Fucking shit! This isn't good. How did he find you? How'd he get in?"

"He said that I called him. I don't know what he meant I…" Cas interrupts him this time.

"There are several rituals to summon an angel, the easiest of which would be to call their name. More complex …" Cas is explaining when Sam is hit by a sudden realization.

"I said his name," Sam admits. "He was in my dreams and he seemed familiar. I kept trying to remember who he was. Suddenly I remembered something. Just a name. It was suddenly just there in my mind. I must have said it out loud. So I summoned him. Shit. But why did he come? What does he want with my family?" Dean and Cas exchange looks. Cas raises an eyebrow, his gaze slightly chiding. Dean's face is determined with a hint of pleading. For a while, neither man wavers. It's as if an entire conversation is happening just through facial expressions. Cas' expression crumbles first, into what looks like an eye roll. Dean smiles for a second before becoming serious once again.

"Sammy, I know you have a lot of questions but, now really isn't the time. This location isn't secure. It's already been compromised by the enemy." Dean is talking like some sort of military general. Sam instinctively opens his mouth to argue but, Dean cuts him off. "Sammy, just trust me. Alright?"

Sam nods. After everything that Dean has done for him since his accident, the least he can do is put a little faith in his brother. The three men make their way out to the car. Dean climbed into the driver's seat and his boyfriend sits next to him. Sam settles himself into the back. Although, he'd spent at least 8 of the last 24 hours unconsciousness that is no substitute for real sleep. He lies back and the oddly familiar sensations lull him to sleep almost immediately

AN: That's all for now. Please review. Any guesses where Dean is taking Sam? I think the answer will delight some people. I'm off to bed then. I have to be up at 6AM tomorrow. The next chapter will probably be up in two weeks. Until then : )


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Sam awakens several hours later feeling much better. The good mood brought on by finally having a pleasant sleep is ruined when he remembers his current situation. He does his best to stay calm. He'll be no help if he starts to panic. He just lays back, his tall body squished a little in the small back seat, and focuses on keeping himself calm. He can hear Dean and Cas talking quietly from the front seat.

"What am I supposed to do Cas? He knew the truth before and it sent him running straight into their pompous arms. We need that like we need a hole in the head." Cas must look confused because Dean goes on to explain. "It's just an expression Cas."

"I understand Dean. However, lying is not the way to insure trust," Castiel responds. "Your…"

Sam never hears what else Castiel was going to say because they hit an unexpected speed bump. Sam fails to repress a groan as his head bounces against the car door. That alerts Dean and Castiel to the fact that he's awake. They share a look and then quickly change the subject of conversation.

"Hey Sammy, you're finally awake. You slept for nearly 20 hours. How are you feelin'?"

"I'm fine," Sam answers automatically.

"Don't lie to me, dude," Dean scolds gently without taking his eyes off the road. Sam is surprised. He hadn't been intentionally lying to Dean but, when he thought about it, he realized what he said wasn't exactly true.

"Honestly, I'm not sure," Sam tells his brother after a pause. "Everything is happening so fast. My head is still spinning. Last week I was worried that Robin was having trouble in math. Now my entire family has been kidnapped. I don't even know if they're still alive." Dean nods sympathetically.

"You just need to stay calm, Sammy," Dean advises. "Cas and I are going to help you get Diana and the kids back. We're not gonna let anything bad happen to them. Right, Cas?" The man in the passenger's seat glances at Dean before meeting Sam's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"I will do everything in my power to return your family safely." It's a simple statement but, Sam knows that his brother's boyfriend is completely serious. If he says he will do anything then he really will do _anything_.

"See Sammy, you just have to trust us. Ok?" Dean tells his brother. Sam nods before turning his gaze out the window. His mind is swimming with everything that has happened recently. The three men slip into a comfortable silence. The only sounds are the impala's tires on the roadway. At one point Dean puts in one of his cassettes and the sounds of Metallica quietly fill the car.

A few hours later they turn off the highway and Sam realizes that he has no clue where they are.

"Where are we going?" Sam asks his brother.

"Sioux Falls, South Dakota" Dean tells him simply.

"What's in Sioux Falls?" Sam questions. The town's the name seems familiar but, he can't place it.

"A friend's place," Dean replies. "Do you remember Bobby?" Dean had mentioned Bobby after his accident, and he could picture the old man in his mind but, like most things in his head, a lot of the memories are jumbled.

"Sort of," Sam finally answers.

"He was a friend of Dad's," Dean explains. "He owns a big junk yard. Dad used to leave us there sometimes when he went on trips. He looked out for us after Dad died. We're going to his place. We'll be safer there." Sam has questions. 'Where was Bobby when Sam had his accident?' 'Why hasn't Bobby visited them in the last 13 years?' 'What were these trips that his Dad was always taking?' Sam opens his mouth to ask then changes his mind. He doesn't know why Dean hasn't spoken to Bobby in 13 years but, he can tell that Dean misses the other man, even if he tries to deny it. Sometimes talking about the past makes Dean clam up tighter then Fort Knox and now would be the worst possible time for that. He needs to trust his brother if he wants to save his family so he lets it go.

"How long until we get there?" Sam asks instead. Dean opens his mouth to respond but Cas beats him to it.

"Approximately 37 minutes," Cas says. His face shows no trace of humor. Sam looks at his brother to see if Cas is joking. Dean pauses and rolls his eyes slightly.

"A little more than half an hour, Sam," Dean translates. Castiel gives Dean a look that Sam doesn't know how to read and Dean counters with an equally enigmatic look. Sam is pretty sure they are having an entire conversation just through glances but, he has no idea what they're saying. He decides to ignore them and focuses on looking at the countryside as it whizzes by.

***

Approximately 37 minutes later the car comes to a stop outside the gates of an old salvage yard. Above the entrance is a sign that once probably said something innocuous, like the name of the salvage yard, but so many letters had been lost that it now read "Sin to Save". The statement, seemingly randomly formed, rings ominously in Sam's head but he pushes the feeling down. At the end of a worn path through the rusted skeletons of old car is a house. Sam is half-way down the path when he realizes that he's walking alone. He turns around. Dean and Cas are still standing next to the impala. He walks back to his brother, confused.

"What's wrong?" Sam asks.

"We cannot pass through these gates. There are powerful…" Cas starts to explain.

"What Cas is trying to say…" Dean interrupts, glaring at his boyfriend. "Is that Bobby won't exactly be happy to see me and Cas. You'll get a warmer welcome without us."

"What do I say to him?" Sam wonders. "I barely even remember him."

"Just tell him who you are and that you need help. He should help you," Dean assures him.

Sam is a little suspicious but, nods. Now doesn't seem the time to start doubting his brother.

There are dandelions growing up between the boards of the porch. The steps creak as Sam climbs them. For a moment he's afraid that they'll break under his weight but they hold. The entire house seems worn and tired. Sam nervously knocks on the door and… nothing happens. He knocks again, harder. The house remains eerily quiet. Sam is starting to doubt that anyone even lives here.

Sam raises his hand to knock a third time. The next thing Sam knows, there's a gun in his face. He hadn't even seen the door open. Standing in the doorway with a double-barrel shotgun pointing at Sam's head is a man at least a head shorter than Sam. He appears to be in his 60's. His mustache and beard have gone completely gray. Even the hair peeking out from under the man's dirty baseball cap is just barely keeping its original brown color.

"Bobby…?" This guy seems to match the image in his head but he also seems off.

"What are you and what do you want?" the man barks at him, ignoring his question.

"umm…" Sam stutters nervous. "It's Sam Winchester. I…" The man Sam believes is Bobby cuts him off.

"I know who you're pretending to be. That's not what I asked. I want to know what kind of evil piece of shit you are and why you're botherin' me. Give me a good reason why I shouldn't fill you with rock salt and silver bullets."

"I…I need help. My family was taken. Dean said…" Sam is interrupted once again.

"Dean, that Son of a Bitch . What's he…" Bobby's question is cut off by a rhythmic chirping sound coming from his pocket. Without taking his eyes or gun off of Sam, Bobby reaches into his jacket and pulls out a black cell phone.

"Yeah," Bobby answers the phone, his voice full of contempt. Sam can hear someone talking on the other end of the line but he can't make out the words. Sam thinks about trying to run but Bobby is still keeping a close eye on him despite his phone conversation.

"…"

"Well speak of the Devil. What do you want?"

'Is that Dean on the phone?' Sam wonders. If Dean gets him out of this he's going to hug his brother then, punch him for getting him into this mess.

"…"

"I've got a gun pointed at whatever this thing is that you dressed up like your brother. Give me a good reason why I shouldn't fill his body full of holes." Sam really hopes that whoever is on the other end of the phone gives Bobby a good reason because he likes his body the way it is, without holes.

"…"

"Don't bullshit me, boy," Bobby snarls into the phone. Sam cringes at the anger in Bobby's voice.

"…"

"Why should I believe anything you say, Dean?" Bobby tries to sound harsh but, his voice has lost some of the edge it held at the beginning of the conversation.

"…"

"Fine," Bobby agrees reluctantly. He hangs up the phone. He lowers the shot gun and turns to go back into the house. Sam remains frozen on the porch. Bobby looks back. "Are you coming?" Bobby calls to Sam. Sam nods and follows. "Idget," he hears Bobby mutter.

Bobby leads him through the house into what Sam thinks is the living room. Books and paper are haphazardly placed around, covering nearly every surface of the room. Even some of the walls are so covered in pieces of paper that Sam can barely identify what color they are painted. Bobby clears away some old looking tomes, revealing an arm chair, couch and lounge chair. Sam just watches him from the doorway.

"Sit," Bobby commands pointing in the general direction of the furniture. Sam takes the lounge chair close to the door. Bobby moves past him and heads to the kitchen. He comes back with two open bottles of beer.

"Drink," he commands. Sam obeys; trying his best not to piss off the man that Sam is beginning to think may be mentally disturbed. Bobby watches him closely as he drinks, obviously waiting for something to happen. Sam wonders if it is poisoned but, nothing happens. The beer tastes fine, if a little watery, but more importantly he doesn't drop dead.

Bobby takes a seat in the well worn arm chair opposite the door. He drinks his own beer silently, his eyes glued on Sam. Bobby's stare is making Sam nervous so he tries to start a conversation.

"Um.. So what..." but Bobby cuts him off.

"We're waitin' for your idiot brother and his feathered friend." His tone doesn't invite anymore discussion. Sam takes it as his cue to shut up. The silence stretches awkwardly between them. Sam takes in Bobby's appearance.

Bobby seems to match the house. Sam wouldn't tell him while he's still within arm's reach of the gun but Bobby looks just as worn out as the house. There were hints of dark circles under his eyes hinting at sleep troubles. They were made even more prominent by Bobby's pale skin. It seems as though Bobby and the sun hadn't been properly acquainted in awhile. The way his body was crossing into just the wrong side of thin seemed to indicate the same about a proper meal.

Sam is distracted from his thoughts by the sound of the front door creaking open. He hears two sets of footsteps travel down the hall. Then, Dean and Lucas appear at the entrance to the living room.

"Bobby," Dean greets warmly, a genuine smile across his face. His smile momentarily falters when Bobby returns a scowl.

"Dean," replies taking a sip of beer. There's an obvious measure of contempt in his voice.

"Mister Singer," Cas adds his own respectful greeting with an incline of his head.

"Castiel," Bobby replied his voice cold. Sam raises an eyebrow but, doesn't say anything. Dean and Lucas take a seat on the couch. A moment of uneasy silence passes between the 4 men.

"So Bobby, long time no see," Dean says trying to sound nonchalant.

"Cut the crap. If I wanted small talk I'd go to an old folk's home. Let's get down to business. The sooner I help you, the sooner you get out of my house. Now what problem is so big that Mr. big-man-downstairs over here couldn't take care of it by himself?" He jabs a figure accusingly in Dean's direction. Sam is confused. Although, he's starting to get used to it. He's spent most of the last 48 hour since his family had been kidnapped either confused or unconscious. Whatever Bobby had meant, it had obviously hit a sore spot for Dean. He looks like he's about to snap. Cas' hand on his arm seems to be the only thing restraining him. He takes a deep breath and manages to speak to Bobby calmly.

"This isn't about me. This is about Sam and his family. He has a wife and two kids. They're in trouble." Bobby's anger recedes, largely replaced by sympathy.

"What happened?" Bobby asks. Dean gives Sam the nod to answer this question.

"There was this guy. He was short, a bit fat, had white hair and a large bald spot on top. He was wearing a suit like he'd just come from an office job. He said his name was Zachariah. He appeared in my bedroom two nights ago with a dozen other men. He kept talking about how I should know him. They grabbed my family and knocked me out. I came to the next morning, the bedrooms were a wreck and everyone was gone. That was when I called Dean. He said we should come here. He said you could help."

"That sounds like Zachariah," Bobby comments. Cas and Dean nod in agreement.

"Who is he?" Sam asks.

"What do you mean 'who'?" Bobby questions. "Zachariah: big bad angel boss. He was a total dick. Wasn't very fond of you guys. Threatened you more than once."

"He's someone we knew before the accident?" Sam wonders.

"What accident?"Bobby questions. He doesn't seem to know anything about the accident.

"I was in an accident 13 years ago," Sam explains. "I woke up in the hospital with no memory. Luckily Dean was there to take care of me. I don't know what I would have done without him." Sam can see the wheels turning in Bobby's head as he speaks. Sam can see when the light bulb goes off in his head.

"Dean, can I speak to you privately in the kitchen for a second?" Bobby phrases it as a question but it isn't really. Dean looks like the little boy who just got caught stealing a cookie before dinner. He follows Bobby guiltily into the kitchen.

The door swings shut leaving Sam to make small talk with his brother's rather odd boyfriend.

***

"What did you do?" Bobby accuses as soon as the door is closed.

"What makes you think I did anything?" Dean deflects.

"Dean," Bobby says using his no nonsense voice.

"Fine," Dean concedes. "I may not have told Sammy the truth about the Supernatural."

"And…" Bobby presses.

"And I may have made up that crap about an accident."

"And…"

"Alright, alright. I may have wiped Sammy's memory." Dean admits before quickly becoming defensive. "I didn't have a choice. He was stuck under the thumb of those junkless angel assholes, too upset with me to see the way they were using him. They would keep sending Sam after me in the hopes that we'd kill each other. They wouldn't have stopped until we were both dead. Sam didn't even care because he thought I was some kind of evil thing wearing his brother's flesh. He would have gladly died taking out the thing that destroyed his brother. He couldn't see that I am still his brother. I know that I'm different. I'm Lucifer now too but, I didn't ask for that. I'm just trying to make the best of what happened but, Sam refused to see it that way. He was hell bent on destroying himself and I couldn't let that happen, Bobby. I can't lose him. Not again." Dean voice becomes soft as his finishes his rant. Bobby can see how much pain he's in. Dean looks on the edge of tears.

"Come 'ere boy," he says pulling Dean into a hug. After all this time he still thinks of the boy as his son. The hug reminds him of the last one they shared nearly a decade and a half ago when Dean had returned from hell. He's gotten the kid back for a second time. Now he will make sure he doesn't lose him. The last 13 years nearly killed him. Dean finally pulls away, calm once again.

"I know you're doing the best you can but you need to restore Sam's memories. Right now Sam is just a sitting duck for the angels. He doesn't even know how to defend himself. He'll be mad at you at first but, hopefully he'll get over it. Cas and I will be there to help you. Alright?" Dean nods and looks slightly ashamed. "Hey. We're a family. We'll get through this, even if you are all idgets." Bobby says the last statement teasingly, making Dean smile. Bobby turns to leave the kitchen but Dean stops him.

"Wait, Bobby. One more thing," Dean says looking nervous.

"Yeah?" Bobby asks.

"I…I'm sorry," Dean finally says after a long pause.

"For what?" Bobby wonders.

"For disappearing," Dean explains. "You were stuck here alone for 13 years not knowing if we were dead or alive. That must have sucked. I'm sorry. I was trying to protect you." That last statement makes Bobby realize just how much shit this poor boy has had piled on top of his head since he was 4 years old. He was always trying to protect everyone at his own expense. Stupid selfless bastard.

"Hey boy, it's not your job to protect me. Ok? I'm a big boy. I've been watchin' out for myself long before you were born." Dean sees this statement for what it is: one of forgiveness and absolution. Dean smiles. "Now let's go fix your brother."


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

AN: Sorry this is so late (and short). Collage is kicking my ass. I just wanted to update with what I could. I hope you enjoy it.

*Meanwhile, in Bobby's living room*

Dean has followed Bobby into the kitchen to have a private conversation, leaving Castiel and Sam alone in the living room.

"So… Lucas…Cas", Sam begins before trailing off. Sam realizes that although he met his brother's boyfriend more than 10 years ago he knows very little about him. The other man was very quiet and had a tendency to fade into the background when he wanted to. Even when he did speak it was rarely about himself. It made Sam curious.

"Where are you from?" Sam finally asks. Cas tilts his head slightly to the right and Sam decides to rephrase the question. "Where did you grow up?"

"Everywhere," Castiel answers cryptically after a long pause.

"Do you have any family, Cas?" Sam continues to question, desperate to learn something about the other man.

"I have many brothers," Cas responds.

"Oh," Sam is surprised. He's never heard anything about them. "Are you guys close?"

"Once they were everything to me," Cas tells him. "But I haven't spoken to them in many years."

"What happened?" Sam asks.

"I met Dean," Cas explains. "They were in conflict. I could not have both. I choose Dean. " The '_and gave up everything for him' _goes unspoken but it resonates loudly within Sam's mind. At that moment Dean and Bobby return from the kitchen. Dean's expression makes Sam forget what he was going to say. Dean looks like a man being led to the gallows.

"What's going on Dean?" Sam doesn't think he's ever seen his brother look this nervous before.

"Uh,… well Sammy… Bobby and I were talking… and um" Dean looks to Bobby hoping for a way out but, while the older man's face is sympathetic, he shows no sign of relenting. "And we think there might be a way to help you regain your memory." Sam is shocked by the news.

"Really?!" Sam asks with barely contained enthusiasm. "Are you sure? What do we have to do?"

"It should work," Dean assures. "It's simple. Lay down on the couch and I'll do the rest."

Sam slowly gets up. Part of him is skeptical that this is going to work. They've spent years trying to fix him. If this solution is so simple why didn't they try it before? Nevertheless, he can't stop keep a part of himself from hoping. He lies back on the couch with his head on one of the armrests. The couch is so small that Sam's feet hang over the other end. Sam involuntarily flinches when Dean unexpectedly places his hands on Sam's forehead.

"Just relax, Sammy," Dean instructs. His words strike Sam as a little hypocritical given how tense his brother is.

Sam opens his mouth to make a sarcastic comment but a sudden head rush causes him to close it again. His vision swims. Suddenly instead of feeling his brother's hands on his head it feels as though they are inside his head. It feels as though they are pressing and stretching his brain like it's a ball of Play Dough. Suddenly there's the sensation of a weight that he wasn't even aware of being lifted but Sam doesn't have much time to feel relieved. Without warning a wave of memories overwhelm Sam. It's like he's drowning in the images and sounds and sensations that overrun his mind. It becomes too much and Sam looses consciousness.

***

Dean paces the length of Bobby's living room once again. He'd tried to sit still and just wait for Sam to wake up but each time he sat down he was up pacing again within five minutes. Castiel has given up his attempts to keep his lover calm and is resigned to watch from the sofa as Dean moves around the room. Bobby pokes his head in to check on them every 15 minutes or so, while keeping himself busy in other parts of the house.

It takes a few hours but finally Sam begins to twitch as he moves toward waking. Dean immediately is at his brother's side. He places a hand on his brother's shoulder trying to guide the younger man from sleep.

"Come on, Sammy," Dean encourages. "We need you to come back to us. Wakey wakey, bro." Dean smiles as his brother's eyes open. The smile falls as an unexpected fist smashes into Dean's face and knocks him on his ass. Bobby and Castiel just barely succeed in holding Sam back as he tries to continue his attack on Dean.

Dean stares openmouthed at his brother as he hits the floor. His world narrows to the faint sting of pain on his face and sight of his brother on the couch thrashing like a wild animal against the hands restraining him.

"Sam! Calm down boy," Bobby commands. Sam instantly stills.

"Bobby?" Sam looks up at the older man in confusion. He looks like a little lost child. Bobby guesses that all of Sam's memories haven't settled yet. Nearly thirty years of memories that had been locked away are trying to find their place among 13 years worth of new memories. His head is probably a pretty confusing place right now.

"Yeah, Sam it's me," Bobby reassures. "I've got you boy." He leans over and whispers a command to Cas who nods.

Castiel moves so quietly to Dean's side that he is startled when he feels Castiel's hand on his shoulder.

"Dean," Castiel says gently. "We must allow Samuel to calm down. Please." Dean feels numb all over like his entire body has been shot full of Novocain. He is only half-aware of what is going on around him as he allows Castiel to lead him into the other room and away from his little brother who had just tried to kill him with his bare hands.

AN: Thanks for reading. Please drop me a review. University is kicking my ass write now. So I probably won't be able to post the next chapter until after final exams which are the first week of May. But please stay tuned. The next couple of chapters should be interesting. There is going to be a lot of fighting within our little family before we can get to fighting the angels. So until next time : )


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Dean wants to walk back down the stairs. He wants to go back into Bobby's living room. He wants to confront his brother. And say what?

He's pretty sure that Hallmark doesn't make an "I'm sorry I'm The King of Hell" greeting card. The chance of finding one that says "I'm sorry I messed with your memories and inadvertently put your family in the path of some homicidal angel dickheads" is even slimmer.

Maybe Dean could find a blank card with a really sad looking puppy on it and write all that crap on the inside. Who the fuck is he kidding? There aren't enough sad puppies in the world to make Sam forgive him.

In his own opinion, he'd gotten off easy with a punch to the face. Sam had wanted to do worse than that and Dean figures that he would have deserved it. Dean has been keeping Sam from the apple pie life he deserves since long before the Lucifer issue. If Sam thought that a few punches would make up for all the shit that Sam has gone through then Dean would gladly accept them.

But, as Bobby would have pointed out, that won't help their current situation. Even if Dean allowed his brother to beat him to a pulp, it wouldn't help get Sam's wife and children back from Zachariah.

So instead of heading back downstairs to talk to Sam, Dean allows Castiel to lead him up the stairs and away from his brother.

Castiel leads his lover up to one of Bobby's spare bedrooms. The room is sparsely decorated, comfortable but largely bare. As Bobby saw it, the only type of people who would need to use his spare room are probably hunters and hunters should be used to far worse. This isn't the Hilton after all. The small amount of furniture that has been placed in the room is covered in dust. It looks as though no one had stayed here in a long time, possibly since Sam's failed demon blood detox. Castiel waves the hand not gripping his lover's arm and the dust disappears. That's one upside to having angel powers: instant maid.

He guides Dean, still lost in his thoughts, to the room's only bed. It isn't very large but they make do. Castiel lies with his back pressed against the wall; his chest serves as Dean's pillow.

Technically, Dean hasn't _needed_ to sleep since he became Lucifer, but Cas has found that even just a few hours nap will make Dean much more relaxed. As Dean's lover and second-in-command, it's Castiel's job to make sure that Dean is as relaxed and happy as possible.

Castiel wraps one arm around Dean, holding him close, while his other hand tenderly strokes his lover's hair. He tries to subtly lull his lover's distracted mind toward sleep. Metal exhaustion and the angel's soothing presence pull Dean from his dark thoughts and toward sleep.

"Cas?" Dean asks on the edge of slumber.

"Sleep, Dean," Castiel gently commands. "I will be right here. Everything will be well. Sleep." With those reassurances Dean slips into dreamland.

Unfortunately, despite Castiel's attempts, it is a little over an hour before dreamland turns into nightmareland for Dean.

It begins with darkness and a crushing pressure on his chest. He can barely breathe with the unseen weight bearing down on upon him. He tries to push it away, but he can't move his arms. Even his powers fail him. The mass just seems to become heavier as he struggles.

A light fills the formless space from seemingly every angle. It reveals the pressure to be from his brother seated upon his chest. Dean looks into Sam's eyes and sees that they are filled with cold hatred. Sam wraps his hands around his brother's neck and begins to squeeze.

"Sam?" Dean tries to ask, but there isn't enough air in his lungs. The edges of his vision begin to darken as he attempts to plead with his brother. The last thing he sees before everything goes black is the cruel smile on his brother's face.

Dean awakens with a gasp. He takes a few deep breaths and tries to reassure himself. He's at Bobby's sleeping in Castiel's arms not some shapeless place being strangled by his brother. He tries to go back to sleep, but, even with his lover lying beside him, he can't relax enough to fall back asleep. He's too worked up. He just feels the need to get up and DO something. Castiel appears to be asleep beside him, but, as soon as he moves to get up, the angel's eyes open.

"Dean?" Castiel's voice is filled with questions.

"Relax, Cas," Dean quickly reassures. "I'm just having some trouble sleeping. I'm a little wired. Bobby was telling me about this gorgeous '67 Mustang that's been wasting away out back. With a little TLC I bet I can make that baby purr like she just rolled off the assembly line." Dean tries to turn on his trademark mega-watt smile, but only ends up doing a pale imitation of himself. He quickly flees the room before a confused and concerned Castiel can even sit up.

After Dean disappears up the stairs, Bobby tries to calm Sam down. It isn't easy. Sam tries several times to follow his brother up the stairs even though his legs keep collapsing under him. Sam's head seems to be spinning. Any sudden movements leave Sam feeling woozy.

"Sam, look at me," Bobby commands. The younger man reluctantly tears his gaze away from the stairs. His vision swims a little as he moves his head too quickly. He feels like he might be sick. "Easy there boy. Just focus on me." Sam tries and eventually his vision comes back into focus.

Bobby keeps Sam calm and focused on him until Sam's world stop spinning. He lets Sam rest a bit before he tries to help Sam move without feeling ready to hurl. It takes about an hour, but Sam finally makes it into the kitchen without using Bobby as a crutch.

"Si' down," Bobby says pointing to a chair place at his kitchen table. "You want something to eat?" Sam nods. Now that he thinks about it, he realizes that he is hungry. "I ain't no Martha Stewart, but I think I've got some soup round here somewhere."

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam tells him.

"Dun mention it, kid," Bobby replies before leaving the dining room to go search for the soup.

Sam sits in his chair, waiting for Bobby to return. After a few minutes he begins to restlessly fidget in his chair. He glances out the window that he's seated next to. It overlooks the salvage yard behind the house. He's about to look away when something catches his eye. There's Dean working on one of the old cars.

'Not Dean,' he mentally scolds himself 'Lucifer'. He checks that Bobby is still busy on the hunt for soup and sneaks out the back door.

Dean is elbows deep under the Mustang's hood when he feels it. It feels as though as shadow has fallen over his soul. He freezes. Without looking up he can feel Sam standing behind him. Dean takes a deep breath before extracting himself from the car's engine and turning to face his brother.

At first, the two Winchester boys just stand several feet apart just staring at each other. It looks like the showdown scene from an old cowboy movie. Sam's face is filled with rage; Dean's face is set in resignation. As the standoff stretches on with no motion from either side, Dean begins to get frustrated.

"If you're wanna take a shot at me, Sammy," Dean hisses. "Just do it already. What are you waiting for?" Sam charges at Dean, his face twisted in explosive rage, and takes hold of the front of his shirt with one hand. The other hand is raised in a shaking fist poised to strike his brother. He breathes deeply, trying to calm himself. He slowly lowers his hand, turns, and walks a few paces from his brother.

"I will kill you," Sam says, his voice portraying the certainty of his statement. "But first I want you to tell me what the hell is going on. Why have you spent the last 13 years fucking with my head? Why remove my memories? Why give me that fake life only to suddenly take it all away?"

"I had to Sammy," Dean replies. His annoyance has been replaced sympathy for his confused brother. "I wanted to protect you. You were all gung-ho about doing suicide missions for the angels and it was going to get you killed. I couldn't let that happen. I needed to do something to keep you safe. If I could give you the life you'd always wanted too, then that was just a bonus."

"Fuck you, Dean or Satan or whatever you are," Sam snarls obviously not believing what Dean has told him. "Was it some sick game to you? Was that your idea of fun? I actually believed you were my brother; I bet you had a good laugh about that. Was any of it real or was it's all a lie?"

"You family was... is," Dean corrects himself "real. Do you remember the look in Diana's eyes when she agreed to marry you? What did it feel like to hold Robin in your arms for the first time, only hours after she'd been born, when she was still a hairless little pink thing? Remember how afraid you were when Jesse broke his arm at school? All of that was real. Your family is real."

"They aren't just some demonic little Stepford family to keep me happy and out of your way?" Sam questions, his voice acidic.

"No!" Dean replied. "Cas and I were the only ones who knew they existed. I was able to keep them hidden until now. Somehow the angels found them. We need to save them."

"So let me get this straight," Sam continues to question. "Lucifer is telling me that I need to save my family from angels?"

"Yes Sam," Dean states, frustrated. "They're not all fluffy wings and Michael Langdon. They're dicks. Dicks who will destroy anything that gets in their way. It does matter if it's little kids and old ladies. They're the 'smite now ask questions later' kind of guys. They won't think twice about destroying your family."

"Even if I believe you," Sam asks. "Why would you care? Shouldn't you be busy ruling hell with all your little evil minions?"

"Sammy, I care because they're my family too!" Dean yells. "I was there when you went on your first date with Diana and I've known the kids since they were born. How could I not care about them?"

"I dunno," Sam chuckles nastily. "Maybe because you're the devil? You're not exactly known for your loving care. You're not even human."

At that point, Dean loses his temper. He charges foreword and tackles his brother to the ground. They wrestle for several minutes in the dirt of the salvage yard, occasionally trading blows.

"Dean," Dean freezes when he suddenly hears his name coming from the direction of the house. It's Castiel. He and Bobby are standing a few feet away, watching them.

"What the hell are you boys doin'?" Bobby shouts, but Dean can barely hear him. All he can focus on is Castiel's face. The angel's expressive face shows a mix of pity and disappointment. He can't stand seeing those emotions on his lovers face. He hates each of them individually, but to see them together is just too much.

He races past Bobby, who had begun to lecture on what idgets the brothers are being, and into the house. The screen door slams behind him as he races inside. He practically runs back up to the guest room, only pausing momentarily to grab an unopened bottle whiskey from Bobby's liquor cabinet.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

AN: Update finally! I hope you guys weren't waiting too long. My family vacation had me delayed last week. Sorry. They were running me ragged. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Without further adu here it is.

Dean remembers back to less than a week ago, although it seems much longer now, when he'd been sitting in Sam's backyard just drinking beer and talking to his brother. In moments like that Dean had been able forget that he wasn't completely human anymore. Now, it hurt to have Sam throw his freakishness in his face.

'Well,' Dean thinks as he takes another deep swig from the whiskey bottle. 'There are other ways to forget.'

Sam sits at Bobby's kitchen table sipping his soup as if nothing has happened. Bobby looks on reproachfully.

"Sam, you need to stop trying to kill your brother," the older man states.

Sam pauses in the motion of raising the spoon to his lips. His face flashes with anger before becoming calm again.

"Dean's already dead," Sam states, his voice tightly controlled.

"Son…" Bobby begins but Sam cuts him off.

"No," Sam states firmly. "That thing upstairs isn't my brother. That thing upstairs is an abomination that climbed inside my brother's body and has been wearing him like a suit for thirteen years. That thing messed with my head and used my brother's face to make me trust it. How can you even stand to have it in your house?"

"Sam," Bobby tries to sooth. "Our angel friend seems to think he's the real deal."

"Then Castiel is an idiot," Sam practically shouts. He pushes himself away from the table so violently that his chair clatters to the floor. He begins to pace agitatedly. "Or maybe he's brainwashed. How do we even know that he's really Castiel?"

"I dunno, Sam," Bobby admits. "But is now really the time for this?"

"If not now, then when?" Sam questions heatedly.

"How about after we've rescued your family?" Bobby replies with a touch of annoyance. "Shouldn't that be our top priority here?" Sam grudgingly nods as Bobby continues to speak. "I've talked to Dean and, despite the changes, he still seems to be himself. And even if he isn't, he's offering to help save your family. Let's face it. We're gonna need his help if we're going to have any hope of getting your wife and kids away from Zachariah while they're still breathing. We don't have much of a chance without him. So you need to play nice with him for now and deal with the other shit later. Understand?"

Sam irately mumbles a half-hearted agreement.

"Good," Bobby states, ignoring Sam's attitude. "Now sit down and finish your soup before it gets cold."

Castiel tries to follow Dean into their bedroom, but he finds the door locked.

"Dean," he knocks lightly on the door. "Will you please allow me entrance?" There's no reply from within the room. "Dean?" He knocks again, harder, but still no answer.

Castiel gives up on getting a response. Instead, presses his palms flat against the door. A soft blue light emanates from them and… nothing happens. Despite his best attempts to mojo the door open, it remains resolutely shut. He even tries to use his angel powers to just appear inside, but he just ends up back where he began feeling dizzy.

Castiel is nearly ready to admit defeat. He pushes on the door in one final futile attempt to gain entrance. He nearly falls on his face when it suddenly swings open. Dean doesn't even look up as Cas stumbles into the room.

Castiel studies the condition of his lover. Dean is sitting cross-legged on the bed swaying slightly. The half empty bottle of whiskey is clutched in one hand. A small shot glass had fallen to the floor when Dean had given up on doing shots and began taking deep swigs straight from the bottle. Cas watched as Dean places the bottle to his lips, tilts his head back, and drains the last of the whiskey.

Castiel lets out a small sigh of disappointment at his lover's current state. At least he's out of alcohol. As if in defiance of his thoughts, the bottle suddenly refills itself. Cas realizes that he should have anticipated that. With Dean's powers the hunter could keep himself in booze until he was too drunk to form a coherent though.

As Dean quickly drains most of the whiskey from his newly filled bottle, Castiel decides that he has to put an end to this. He approaches Dean and snatches the bottle from his hand. There's a moment of semi-drunken confusion as Dean tries to figure to figure out where his alcohol has gone. Dean looks up and manages to focus his glossy eyes on his lover holding the bottle.

"Cas," Dean whines. "Need that. N't drunk enough yet."

"No, Dean," Castiel disagrees. "You have consumed enough alcohol."

"No," Dean argues. "Still remember. Need to forget. Please."

"What must you forget?" Castiel asks.

"Wanna fo'get that I'm a freak," Dean responds.

"Dean, you're not…" Cas begins before Dean cuts him off.

"I don't need a bull shit speech about how I'm fine the way I am," Dean hisses angrily. "What I need is to get so shitfaced that I forget my own name,"

"That isn't a good idea, Dean," Castiel tries to dissuade.

"There is another way," Dean states after a short pause. He strides up to Castiel and presses his body against the angel's. He places sloppy, drunken kisses on his neck.

"Dean?" Castiel is surprised the sudden change in his lover's mood.

"Let me suck you," Dean tries to make his voice low and seductive, but it comes out sounding strung out and desperate. "Or you could fuck me. I know you want it, Cas. Think about how good it would feel to pound into me until I forget everything else."

"Dean, no," Castiel pushes free of Dean's octopus-like hold. Dean frowns at the rejection. "Not like this. Not because of pain. It will solve nothing."

"Cas…" Dean begins, hoping to change his lover's mind, but Castiel doesn't give him the chance.

"You must be tired, Dean," Castiel states soothingly. "Lie with me. Sleep. You will feel better when you awaken."

"I 'av nightmares" Dean slurs an excuse even as he lets Cas lead him to the bed.

"I will protect you," the angel promises him.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean smiles at him. It's filled with admiration and love, genuine in a way that only comes with being drunk. "Yer amazing, freakin' wonderful. I love you so much. Too much. Yer more than I deserve. I'm not good enough. Never was, never will be. Don' know why you don' see it. I'm just waitin' until you do. Then you'll leave. Like everyone else…" Dean's drunken, melancholy speech trails off as he climbs into the bed with Cas.

Castiel pulls his lover close to him. He runs calming hands over the other man's body, lulling him to sleep.

"How can you be blind to how much I need you?"Castiel mutters the question into his sleeping lover's hair.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave me a review. I live off reviews and Ramen noodles. I'm hoping to put out another chapter soon. Next chapter our boys will start planning how to free Sam's family. Let's see if they can get along long enough to get anything accomplished. Until next time : )


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Spoilers: This chapter has specific 4.16 and 4.21/4.22 references.

Warning: Male/Male sex this chapter

AN: Update! I had a super hectic weekend. I just finally had the time to sit down and edit this chapter. Originally this chapter was much shorted but then Dean demanded a sex scene and Cas wanted to talk to Bobby so I added both of those scenes. Enjoy!

Dean sleeps through the night in his angel's arms. Castiel acts as a silent guardian against his lover's nightmares. Whenever the hunter begins to show signs of bad dreams, Cas sooths them away with gentle touches.

Watching Dean sleep gives Castiel time to think. He thinks about the heavenly family that he gave up to become a Winchester. He remembers Sam's kind wife who has always made him feel welcome in her home and their lively children who have taken to calling him 'Uncle Cas'. He wonders how (not if, **how**) Dean plans to rescue them. He plans how, once they've finally taken care of Zachariah, he's going to show Dean that he'll never leave him.

Around noon the next day, Castiel hears Dean's breathing change as his lover shifts from sleeping to waking.

"Ugh," Dean groans as he tries to hide his face from the noonday sunlight.

"How are you feeling?" Castiel inquires.

"I slept fine," Dean states. "But right now I've got a killer hangover. It feels like I've gone ten rounds with a demon. Then, the demon got together with a bunch of his friends, put on stilettos, and begun to tap dance inside my brain."

Castiel listens attentively to his lover's complaints. Then, he gently pulls the blanket away from Dean's face and places a soft kiss on his forehead. Dean's face breaks into a megawatt smile as the pain and nausea recede.

Cas knows that Dean should be able to heal himself, but he also knows that there is a certain absolution in being healed by someone else. It's proof that someone cares and thinks that he doesn't deserve the pain.

"Better?" Castiel asks. Dean responds by enthusiastically kissing Castiel's lips. It's Castiel who eventually pulls away. "Bobby and your brother will be waiting for us downstairs."

"Oh alright," Dean grumbles. "But we better have a show first, because- no offense- we both smell pretty ripe. Come on, we'll save time if we take one together." The last sentence is heavily shaded with innuendo.

"I sincerely doubt that," Castiel states dryly. He follows Dean to the bathroom anyway, shedding his clothes as he goes.

Dean dumps his clothes in the corner of the small bathroom and turns on the shower. Castiel can't help but stare at his lover's ass as he bends over to adjust the temperature.

"See something you like?" Dean teases when he notices his lover's gaze.

"Very much so," Castiel replies seriously.

Dean has to hide a slight blush as he steps under the cascading water. Castiel follows him. Bobby's shower is small, obviously not designed for two people, but Dean doesn't mind. It gives him the excuse to press closer to Cas. They relax under the calming spray for a moment before focusing on getting clean.

Dean steps away, leaving Castiel under the flowing water. Dean grabs Bobby's shampoo, unscented unlike his brother's fruity girl shampoo. He pours some of the thick liquid on his hand before transferring it to Castiel's hair.

Castiel closes his eyes and lets out a low moan as skillful fingers massage his scalp, working the shampoo until Castiel's head is covered in white bubbles. Dean tilts Castiel's head back into the falling water. Both of his hands run through the angel's hair as he rinses all the suds from Castiel's dark hair.

Then, it's Dean's turn. Their lips meet in a short but passionate kiss as they trade places. Now Dean is under the spray with Castiel facing him. Castiel repeats Dean's movements slowly and reverently. He continues to work his hands in Dean's hair long after all traces of the shampoo are gone. Dean's cock begins to take notice. He ignores it for now.

Instead Dean discards the bottle of shampoo and finds a bar of soap. He begins at the top with Castiel's shoulders. Dean's hands move is small circles as he cleans first the angel's left shoulder then the right. He leaves bite marks on his neck before lovingly running the soap over it. He makes a show of avoiding Castiel's nipples before rubbing them each in turn until they become hard little pebbles. Castiel groans with pleasure. Dean smirks before moving down to place slow, broad strokes across Castiel's tight stomach.

Dean bypasses his lover's cock and balls in favor of the angel's thighs. Dean gently raises Castiel's right leg letting his lover use the shower wall to balance. He strokes and kneads the muscles from hip to foot. The tense muscles twitch and are finally coaxed into relaxing under Dean's skillful hands. Once all the muscles in the left leg are loose, he repeats the technique on Castiel's left leg. Castiel hums happily at the pleasant sensations. His eyes have glossed over and he's forgot the reason they were supposed to hurry. He seems content to stay in Bobby's shower all day.

Dean gently turns the plaint angel around so that his back is to Dean. He uses his strong hand to clean and massage the angel's back. Castiel slumps against the shower wall as his legs go gooey from Dean's touch. Dean also lays trails of love bites from shoulder to waist. Then he runs his tongue tenderly over the red mark. Cas shivers slightly.

Dean begins kissing Castiel's neck as his nimble fingers trail downward. They affectionately stroke the fleshy globes of his ass. Castiel doesn't think much of it, until they begin to tease the flesh just outside his hole. Castiel thrusts back against the fingers, hoping for more. Dean slides just the tip of two fingers into Castiel. It feels good, but it's not enough.

"Dean," Castiel's tone makes it clear that if Dean doesn't start fucking him soon, there will be dire consequences. Dean smiles and does as Castiel asks. He quickly, but thoroughly stretches the angel with two and then three fingers. When Dean finally presses his cock into Castiel's hot passage there is little resistance. Castiel suddenly realizes that Dean is slick with something tingly that Castiel doubts he found in Bobby's shower. Castiel makes a questioning noise. 'Where had Dean gotten lube?'

"I may not be a boy scout, but I was taught to always be prepared," Dean explains seductively.

Before Castiel can respond, Dean is hitting the sweet spot inside him making him forget everything else. Dean thrusts deeply several times, always hitting Castiel's prostate, before he suddenly stills. Castiel is about to raise a complaint when he feels Dean's hands slink around to his front. One hand fists Castiel's throbbing member while the other takes hold of his balls.

Dean begins to fondle Castiel's cock and balls, as he resumes moving inside him. Castiel wreathes under so many incredible feelings. He can't decide whether he should push back onto Dean's pounding cock or forward into his nimble hands. Cas begins to pant and make the little noises in the back of his throat that Dean has learned means that the angel is getting close to orgasm.

Dean increases the speed of his strokes, quickly bringing Castiel's over-sensitized body over the edge. The electric intensity of his pleasure makes his vision go completely white as he explodes all over the shower wall. His hot hole spasming and tensing around Dean's cock means that Dean quickly follows his lover to orgasm. Castiel feels Dean's cum flood into his sated body that still hums with the echoes of pleasure. He slumps boneless against the shower wall as Dean cleans the both of them off.

"You head on down, I'll be along in a minute," a damp, half-dressed Dean suggests to a dry, fully clothed Castiel.

"Dean," Cas begins.

"I swear I'll be down soon," Dean interrupts. "I'm not going to try to escape out the window, Cas. We're on the second floor. Where would I go? I just need a minute. Please." Castiel can see the sincerity on Dean's face.

"As you wish," Castiel says giving Dean a quick kiss on the lips before heading down the stairs.

Castiel finds Bobby sitting alone at the kitchen table sipping a cup of coffee and reading the paper. Castiel sits in the chair across the table from him.

"Robert Singer," Cas inclines his head in greeting.

"Castiel," Bobby returns that greeting. His eyes rest on the bite marks that Dean left on the angel's neck during their shower. He can't help but ask. "So how long have you and Dean been…" He trails off looking for the right word.

"Fornicating?" Cas supplies helpfully.

"Been together," Bobby corrects. "How long have you been together?"

"We began our relationship shortly after Anna's escape," Castiel begins to explain. "I saw her kiss him and I felt something. In the beginning I didn't understand it. I had never experienced all the feelings that Dean began within me. I eventually saw that it was jealously. I was jealous that Anna was able to kiss Dean. I wanted to kiss Dean. But I refrained. Human-angel relationships were forbidden.

One night I arrived in his room with information regarding the seals. He was alone, tired and hurting from dreams of his time spent in the pit. I wanted to comfort him. I wasn't thinking. I kissed him. He reciprocated. That was how it began."

"And now?" Bobby asks.

"I love him," Castiel states simply, as if that explains everything.

"Who would have thought that Dean the hedonist would end up with a holy angel of the lord?" Bobby wonders rhetorically. "But you two seem to be good for each other. He needs someone to make sure he doesn't drive himself into an early grave with cheeseburgers, sleepless nights, and booze. While you needed someone to help you loosen up and make choices for yourself."

Castiel nods in agreement.

"And when this is all over," Bobby continues. "You don't be a stranger. You're an honorary Winchester now and we've got to stick together."

"Thank you, Bobby," Castiel replies gratefully.

Any response is cut off by the noise of Dean heading down the stairs toward the kitchen. There are also footsteps coming from the hallway.

Both Sam and Dean enter the kitchen at the same moment. Everyone freezes for a moment. They stare at the other like two rival alpha males. Each man watches the other for the slightest movement, convinced that he could attack at any moment. Tension fills the air for several long minutes… until Bobby has had enough.

"Will you idjets quit puffin up yer chests like a bunch of territorial pigeons so we can get down to work?"

A terse 'fine' comes from both boys as they each take a seat at Bobby's kitchen table.

"So how do we rescue Diana and the kids without a bloodbath?" Bobby asks. Dean is about to speak but Sam beats him to it.

"We could try to talk to them," Sam suggests. "Negotiate. Maybe if they get what they want they'll return my family." Everyone at the table knows that what the angels want is Dean's head on a pike. That Sam would suggest giving it to them sends a flash of anger deep within Dean, but he pushes it down and replies calmly.

"I doubt it," Dean states. "These aren't Michael Landon's fluffy winged angels. These are the smiting, Sodom and Gomorrah, type angels. Human lives are less than worthless to them. If they could get what they want by wiping out the entire state- hell the entire county- they would do it without blinking an eye. Do you think they would really think twice about eliminating your family once they didn't need them anymore?"

"Then what do you think we should do, Dean?" Sam shouts. "Do you have a better plan?"

"Part of one," Dean replies. "We need to find your family and get them out of there before we take on Zach. We need to get them out of danger before the fur starts to fly."

"How do we even find them?" Sam asks. "The angels could have taken them anywhere."

"We have that covered," Castiel replies.

Dean opens up the glove compartment of the impala and pulls out a handheld device about the size of a cell phone.

"Do you know if Nate had the mini-impala I gave him when they took him?" Dean asks Sam.

"How would I…" Sam begins to complain, but stops when his brother gives him a no nonsense look. "He probably did. He never lets it out of him sight for even a second. Why?"

Dean turns the device on and the screen flickers to life. On the screen is a map with a blinking red dot over the picture of a small building and a set of coordinates that correspond with a specific location.

"This is why," Dean states. "I put a tracker in the car. We can use it to find them."

"You lo-jacked my kid," Sam states astonished.

"Kids," Dean corrects. "There's a tracker in Robin's shoes and backpack. I also put one in the lining of a few of Diana's favorite purses.

"Why?" Sam wonders.

"Because I watch the news, Sammy," Dean states. "Kids and even grown adults are abducted every day and those are the normal ones who don't have to worry about all the things that go bump in the night that we've pissed off over the years. I just wanted to have a fighting chance to save them if something happened." Sam is quiet as he takes in his brother's explanation.

"Well now we know where they are," Bobby breaks the silence. "But what do we do when we find them.

Dean walks around to the back of the car a pulls out a knife from under the false bottom of the trunk. The knife is made of silver, long and thin. It's identical to the blade that Uriel had used to murder other angels before Anna had used it to kill him.

"We can kill Zach with this," Dean explains.

"If we can get the layout of where the prisoners are being held we may be able to achieve the element of surprise," Castiel states.

"Do you have a computer, Bobby?" Sam asks. "It shouldn't be too hard to find the building's blueprints on the internet."

"Sure I do," Bobby replied. "It might be a tad old though."

After they print the blueprints using Bobby's ancient looking computer, they spread the pages across the kitchen table and begin to strategize. They strategize through a dinner of deliver pizza and into the night. As it gets late the members of this little war counsel get tired and their fuses get short.

"Why can't we use that side entrance?" Sam asks crossly, pointing to a spot on the facility map.

"Sam, we've been over this," Dean answers heatedly. "That door is going to have an alarm system rigged to it as well as angels guarding it. We'd be caught before we can even step in the doorway."

"How do you know that?" Sam argues. "We don't have that kind of intel. Have you scoped the place out with your freaky Devil powers?"

"Only if common sense is a freaky power," Dean retorts. "Maybe it is. Obviously you don't have it." Chairs clatter to the ground as both Winchester boys jump to their feet preparing for a fight. Castiel and Bobby quickly move to pull them apart.

"Ok that's enough," Bobby proclaims loudly. "I think it's time for bed. It's late and you Winchesters get cranky if you don't get enough sleep. Go. You won't be able to defeat Zach if you kill each other first."

Dean turns away from Sam and begins to climb the stairs. He pauses to look back at Castiel who doesn't seem to be following him.

"You coming up, Cas?" Dean asks his lover.

"I am not yet tired," Castiel responds. "I require some time to contemplate. I will join you shortly."

"Suit yourself," Dean replies before disappearing up the stairs. Castiel heads out the back door with a nod to the two remaining men. Bobby heads toward his own bedroom with a grunted good night.

Sam watches everyone leave, waiting a moment before following Castiel outside.

When Sam steps out the backdoor into the salvage yard, Castiel is nowhere to be found. Sam wanders between the stacks of rusty cars looking for the angel. Eventually Sam finds him in a large open space, staring at the stars. He seems completely captivated by what he's looking at. Sam approaches slowly, convinced that Castiel doesn't even notice his presence… until the angel suddenly speaks.

"Hello, Sam," Castiel says without taking his eyes off the sky.

"Hey, Cas," Sam replies then trails off into an extended silence.

"Do you require something?" Castiel eventually asks, finally looking at Sam.

"I need helping understanding this," Sam finally says.

"Understand what, Sam?" Castiel tilts his head to the side, obviously confused.

"I need to know why you side with him," Sam clarifies. "How can you side with Lucifer?"

"I do not side with Lucifer, I side with your brother," Castiel states.

"How do you know Dean is even in there anymore? How do you know Lucifer isn't playing all of us?" Sam continues to question.

"I can feel it," Castiel replies. "It feels like your brother is still in control of his own body. It doesn't feel like he is being possessed."

"So all you've got to go on is a feeling?" Sam challenges. "What if you're wrong?"

"I can't be wrong," Castiel protests. "I love him. I have given up everything I had known for millennia to be with him. I would lay down my life for him. He is worth everything to me. He can't be gone. I have to trust him. I failed him once by choosing to side with the other angels when I should have chosen him. I eventually realized my error, but it was too late. I cannot fail him again. This time I must trust him." Castiel trails off. Although the angel tries to hide it, Sam can tell that he is upset. "I must go, Samuel," Cas declares before swiftly heading back to the house.

Sam remains in the salvage yard, Castiel's words of desperation ringing in his ears.

'Does Castiel believe because it makes sense or because the alternative in unbearable?' Sam wonders. He can't help but feel bad for the angel.

Eventually, after much thought, Sam makes a decision.

AN: That's all for now. Please leave me a review. They make me a happy girl. I'll try to update again soon. Even I'm not sure what exactly is going to happen in the next chapter. I'm going to try to make this story 13 chapters with an epilogue. I'll try to finish by the end of August.

Until next time : )


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

AN: I hate working weekends. It cuts into my fic writing time. Anyway, he's the next chapter. Enjoy!

Dean awakes the next morning to find Castiel doing his best impression of an octopus. The angel's body is pressed as close as possible against Dean's side. His head rests on Dean's shoulder. One arm is wrapped around Dean's waist while the other grippes Dean's shirt tightly, likes he expects Dean to disappear if he lets go. Dean tries to shift into a more comfortable position. Castiel tenses when he feels Dean moving. Dean reassuringly rubs his hand down his lover's back until the angel relaxes.

He expects the angel to be asleep. However when he looks down, he meets Castiel's intense (although slightly unfocused) gaze. It's as if Castiel is looking past Dean into another place or time. It makes Dean feel uneasy.

"Cas?" he places a hand on the angel's shoulder. The angel's eyes abruptly come back into focus. "Are you ok?"

"I am… fine," Castiel hesitates.

"Bull shit," Dean states firmly but not unkindly. "What's wrong?"

"I was thinking," Castiel replies. Dean waits for him to continue, but Cas doesn't say anything more.

"Thinking about what, Cas?" Dean gently prompts.

"I was contemplating the result of losing you." Castiel says quietly. "The idea is unpleasant." The angel tries to make his voice neutral, but Dean can hear how upset Castiel is. The way he tries to hide his eyes from Dean only makes it more obvious.

Dean takes Castiel's chin in his hand and pulls the angel's face up into a kiss.

"Relax," Dean says in between pressing his lips to Castiel's. "You aren't going to lose me. I promise."

Dean pours all the love and comfort that he can into their lip lock. Castiel sinks into the kiss, returning it with a fiery hunger. They get lost in each other. Problems are forgotten as the world narrows to just the feelings of lips and tongue tangled together in a heated dance. Eventually- they could have been kissing for hour or mere minutes- Cas pulls away.

"Dean," there is still worry in Castiel's voice.

"Relax, I promise," Dean repeats, but his lover still seems uneasy. Suddenly, an idea occurs to the elder Winchester. "I know what will cheer you up… Pancakes."

Castiel looks at Dean like he's gone mad.

"Trust me, Cas," Dean says with a grin that makes his whole face light up. It's contagious, because Castiel soon finds himself smiling too.

Castiel sits at the kitchen table watching his lover cook. Dean is serenading the angel with a medley of classic rock songs, accompanied by a little dance that involves a lot of booty shaking (for Castiel's benefit), while he works. He begins by rummaging around the kitchen for ingredients. He finds most of the ingredients in Bobby's kitchen (including some milk that Dean decides to throw out because it's beginning to look more like yogurt) and summons everything he can't find with a swish of his hand.

Dean finds a bowl buried underneath some exotic dried herbs. He blows the dust off it and begins to mix everything together. He cracks the eggs with one hand and then tosses the shells over his shoulder into the garbage bin, obviously showing off for Cas. He pours in the flour and sugar without bothering to measure. An entire package of chocolate chips is the last thing added. The huge spoon that Dean uses to stir his concoction also occasionally doubles as his pretend microphone. He angles the microphone-spoon at Cas as his sings Led Zeppelin's 'Heartbreaker'. The angel hesitantly joins in singing the parts he knows.

Next, Dean digs out a frying pan. He pours some of the pancake batter into the pan. A simple flick of his wrist sends the pancake flying high in the air only for Dean to catch in the pan when it comes down. One overenthusiastic flip ends with a pancake sticking to the ceiling. They stop and watch it for a moment, but it doesn't appear that it's going to be coming down soon, so they go back to cooking.

Soon, they have a tall stack of slightly misshapen chocolate chip pancakes. Dean puts a few on a plate, adds some maple syrup and hands the plate to Castiel.

"Dig in," Dean says. Castiel cuts off a small piece of pancake, spears it onto his fork, and takes a tentative bite.

"mmm," Castiel makes a happy sound as the flavors explode in his mouth.

"Good?" Dean asks. Castiel nods enthusiastically before taking another bite. Dean smiles and digs into his own stack of pancakes.

Dean is licking a bit of stray maple syrup from the edge of Castiel's mouth when Bobby announces his presence by loudly clearing his throat. They pull away with a start.

"Hey Bobby," Dean says casually. "Cas and I were just having some breakfast."

"Oh, is that what the kids are calling it nowadays, breakfast?" Bobby teases. "You leave any pancakes for me or does an old man have to make his own breakfast?"

"There are some extras next to the stove," Dean responds. "There's enough for Sam, too."

As Bobby walks into the kitchen the pancake on the ceiling finally succumbs to gravity. It sails past him. A few inches to the left and Bobby would have been wearing it like a hat. He looks up confused, checking the ceiling to for more falling debris. Dean is trying to keep a straight face, but it's too much and he bursts out laughing.

"Laugh it up," Bobby says. "You're gonna be the one washing my ceiling." Despite his words Bobby is smiling. He grabs a plate of pancakes and joins the couple at the table. "Pass the syrup."

"So I find Dean Winchester, 9 years old, standing in my kitchen, flour everywhere, holding a plate of lumpy pancakes." The three men had finished their breakfast and now Bobby is telling Castiel stories about Dean's childhood. "The boy looked so proud of himself, I would have felt just awful if I didn't at least take a bite of them. They weren't that bad, a little burnt and there was the occasional bit of egg shell, but I'd eaten worse on the road. Sam used to love 'em."

"Oh yeah," Dean says grinning at the memory. "He used to call them Dean-cakes. He'd ask me to make them whenever we stayed here."

"Speaking of Sam," Bobby begins. "Is your brother still asleep?"

"I guess," Dean replies. "I haven't seen him since last night."

"That's odd," Bobby replies. "He's always been Mr. Early Riser as long as I've known him. Yesterday he was up at dawn. Now it's almost 11. I'm going to check on him."

"Bobby, he's probably just sleeping late," Dean points out. "But go ahead, if it'll make you feel better."

"I've just got this feelin'…" Bobby trails off, exiting the kitchen.

"Sam's pancakes will become cold if he does not wake soon," Castiel points out.

"I could always make more," Dean replies offhandedly. For some reason this makes Castiel's face break into a smile. "What?"

"I enjoy watching you cook," Castiel tells him. Before Dean can reply Bobby reenters the room, looking troubled.

"What is it Bobby?" Dean wonders.

"I can't find your brother," Bobby replies grimly.

"What do you mean you can't find him?" Dean questions.

"I mean Sam's room is empty," Bobby responds. "It doesn't even look like the bed has been slept in."

It's incredibly dark when Sam sneaks away from Bobby's scrap yard. The moon and stars are his only source of light for most of his with any light on his nearly 4 mile walk into town. He doesn't want to risk driving, because the sound of an engine might wake Bobby or Dean. He plans to hotwire a car once he gets there. It's only a 15 minutes drive, so Sam hadn't expected the walk to take an hour and a half.

He breaks into the first car he sees, parked on a side street at the edge of town. It's a white '98 Toyota corolla with an Eeyore antenna topper. It's decidedly less cool than the impala, but it'll do for now.

It's not an easy drive. Sam didn't exactly have time to MapQuest where he's going and at 3 in the morning there aren't that many places to pull over and get directions. All he has are a set of coordinates that correspond to an abandoned warehouse in Colorado Springs. A few times he takes a wrong turn before finding his way back to the interstate.

Just inside the Colorado border Sam's little Corolla runs out of gas. Even if he was able to find an open gas station, Sam's wallet is still on his nightstand back in his house in California. He hadn't even thought about money before he left Bobby's. He can't pay for fuel so, he decides to find a new car. The only car he can find for nearly a mile is a gold mini-van. He's tempted to keep searching, but now isn't exactly the time to be picky. He sighs as he realizes he's going to show up at the warehouse looking like a soccer mom. At least this car has a GPS.

According to the LCD display on his cell phone, it's 10:47 AM when he gets a call from Dean. Sam just presses the 'ignore' button. He turns the phone off and keeps driving. He'd hoped for a little more time before his brother discovered that he was gone, but there's nothing he can do about it now. At the moment he's just an hour away from his destination. He's almost there.

"Shit," Dean breathes as his second call to Sam goes directly to voicemail. "Fucking shit." He resists the urge to throw his phone against the wall. He quickly slips on his jacket and grabs his car keys before heading for the door. His movements radiate barely contained fury.

"Where are you goin', boy?" Bobby calls after him.

"I gotta go keep my little brother from doing something incredibly stupid," Dean replies as starts the impala's engine.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm really excited because we're getting close to the end. I tried explain Castiel's issues more, but leave comment if it's still unclear. FYI- the cars Sam stole are based on the cars that my family owns. I just thought that'd be fun to put in there. We're getting down to the wire. There should only be 2 or 3 chapters and an epilogue left. Yay! Until next time : )


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

AN: Update yay! We're getting down to the wire. The next few chapters should be exciting. So without further ado, enjoy the next chapter!

When Sam finally reaches the warehouse, he parks the stolen min-van behind another abandoned building a few hundred feet away and approaches as quietly as possible. He picks the large padlock on one of the side doors and cautiously pushes it open. The inside of the warehouse is pitch black.

He's not even a dozen steps inside, his eyes barely adjusted to the darkness, when the industrial overhead lights are suddenly switched on. The unexpected brightness flooding the room leaves Sam momentarily blinded. Two large men quickly grab and restrain him.

When Sam's vision returns, he takes a look around. The warehouse is large and mostly empty. Dusty boxes of various sizes and materials scattered around the room are the only thing that remains of the warehouse's previous owners. Doors (and door frames that are missing doors) lead from the main floor of the warehouse to adjoined offices. There's a skylight in the ceiling, but like all the other windows it's coved up with plywood.

Far across the room Sam can see his family. They're tied together to one of the support columns. Half a dozen angels are watching them like hawks. They stand completely still, like statures, but Sam knows that they could kill his entire family with a twitch of his fingers.

"Well hello, Samuel," Sam turns to face the familiar voice. Zachariah.

"Let my family go," Sam demands. "You have me, now. You don't need them."

"Isn't that cute? Little Sammy Winchester wants to sacrifice himself for him family," Zachariah mocks. "But you seem to have forgotten the main rule of negotiation: you need to have something I want."

"I'll stay here, if you let them go," Sam suggests futilely.

"Trying to trade yourself for your family," Zachariah replies. "That's sweet, but get real Sam. I've already got you. What else have you got?"

"Lucifer, what about him?" Sam offers desperately. "If I could get Lucifer to show up, would you let my family go?"

"Oh, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," Zachariah teases. "We already have the perfect bait to get your brother here."

Dean is traveling down US route 83 South at nearly 90 miles per hour when he hears the flutter of wings. He doesn't even have to look to know that Cas just angel teleported himself into the passenger's seat.

"Go back to Bobby's, Cas," Dean orders. Castiel ignores the order.

"This is a trap, Dean," Castiel states.

"No shit Sherlock," Dean says cruelly. He immediately feels bad and gives Cas an apologetic look. "I know it's a trap."

"Why, if you are aware of its nature, do you continue to travel toward Zachariah's trap?" Castiel asks.

"I don't really have much of a choice," Dean explains. "It's my job to protect Sam. If there's even a small chance that I can save Sam before he does anything stupid then I have to try."

"Then, I will go with you," Castiel declares.

"No, Cas, I want you to go back to Bobby's," Dean repeats his earlier order.

"It is too dangerous for you to go alone, Dean," Castiel argues. "You cannot fight against Zachariah's entire army by yourself."

"The two of us verses an entire angel army wouldn't exactly be a fair fight either," Dean counters. "There's no sense in both of us getting our asses kicked."

"You endeavor to protect Sam, but who will protect you?" Castiel questions.

"Dude, I'm Lucifer, Lord of Hell," Dean points out. "I don't need protecting."

"You are not invulnerable," Cas counters. His voice drops to almost a whisper and Dean almost misses what he says next. "You swore that I would not lose you."

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean tells his lover guiltily. "But I have to do this. And I'm not gonna let you risk your life too. If you don't go back to Bobby's…"Dean trails off. The passenger's seat beside him is empty. Castiel must have teleported out while he was talking. Dean wants more than anything to be able to turn the car around, take Castiel home, and not leave their bed for at least a week, but that isn't an option right now. So, he continues to speed toward whatever fate awaits him at the small Colorado Springs warehouse.

"What do you have that will make Lucifer walk right into a trap?" Sam asks angrily.

"We have you, obviously," Zachariah points out. "Your brother would do anything to protect you. He went to hell for you. Do you believe he'd think twice about taking on some angels?"

"He's not really my brother anymore, is he?" Sam snarls.

"Of course he is," Zachariah replies. "He's just changed a bit. Now he's my brother too. I know that you think that Lucifer changed your brother. Honestly, I think you're brother has corrupted Lucifer more than Lucifer affected him." Zachariah turns to look at something in a different part of the warehouse that Sam can't see. "Speak of the devil."

Dean enters the warehouse through a window in the back office. He slips as quietly as he can into the main section of the building. The door between the rooms has long ago fallen off its hinges.

There are a few angels standing just inside the door frame. He takes out the first with the silver angel-knife through the back of the neck and then uses the momentum to stab the next angel in the side. Both go down before they even realize that Dean's there. He overpowers a half dozen more angels before a familiar voice brings him to a halt.

"I think it's time you put the knife down and stopped killing my soldiers," Zachariah phrases it as a suggestion but it's obviously a command. "Unless you want my brother, Ecanus, to squeeze _your_ brother's neck until it snaps." Dean looks over to see an angel with dark curly hair (obviously Ecanus) standing next to Zachariah. The angel has his hands resting on Sam's throat. His grip, at the moment, is loose, but Dean knows that could change in a second. Dean's eyes dart around the room looking for some way out.

"Now Dean," Zachariah no longer sounds amused. "Or would you prefer that after killing your brother we move on to the little kiddies."

"Ok, fine, just chill dude," Dean tries to placate. "I'm putting the knife down."

"Restrain him," Zachariah commands the other angels.

"Easy chuckles," Dean growls as the angels roughly bind his arms.

"Still so defiant, Dean," Zachariah states. "Even when you're trapped like the vermin you are."

"Ok junkless," Dean retorts. "Just stop bragging and kill me already so all these nice people can go home."

"Oh, Deano," Zachariah says. "No one is going home."

"Why the hell not?" Dean demands. "You don't need them after you've killed me. They're innocent. You could let them go."

"But Dean, we aren't going to kill you," Zachariah explains. "At least not yet. That wouldn't accomplish anything. We're only in stage 1 of the apocalypse. If we kill Lucifer during stage 1 everything goes back to normal. That's not what we want. We need the apocalypse to be in full swing: the four horsemen, rivers of blood, amphibian downpours, the whole shebang, before we exterminate Lucifer."

"Wait , you guys are hoping for the apocalypse?" Sam questions from where he's still being restrained by Ecanus.

"Of course, although it really isn't as bad as everyone says it is," Zachariah continues. "When we win there will be heaven on earth. It'll be peace and love 24/7 for all of eternity. The problem is that we can't exactly crank up the dial on the apocalypse ourselves. No, we're the good guys. That's your brother's job."

"How many people will die so you can have your little Stepford earth?" Sam asks heatedly.

"More than a few," Zachariah replies. "But you know what they say, you can't build paradise without breaking a few eggs."

"Dickless bastards," Dean mutters as he pulls against his restraints.

"Why now?" Sam wonders. "Lucifer rose 13 years ago. You seem to be taking your time."

"Like I said before kiddo," Zachariah smirked. "Your brother has corrupted mine. Lucifer used to be gung-ho about annihilating this shit stain of a planet. He used to understand how corrupt you vile little apes are. But your brother changed him. He'd rather drink beer and work on that hunk of junk car than rain down fire and brimstone. He decided he'd rather protect the planet than destroy it."

"What does that have to do with my family?" Sam snaps.

"So rather than face us and damage to his precious planet, Lucifer hid," Zachariah continued as if Sam hadn't spoken. "He just disappeared right off our radar, along with anyone who was close to him. Like you Sam. He kept you and your whole family out of our sights for a long time. Until recently. We found a way into your dreams Sammy-boy. Then you said my name and it was like a hundred signal flares going off. It was so simple to find you."

"Why?" Sam questions. "What do you want with us?"

"We're going to give our brother a choice," Zachariah explains. "Either he plays his part and gets the apocalypse back on track or he watches his family suffer the consequences." *muffled thump* *muffled thump* *thud* Dean looks up when he hears the series of quiet noises. They appear to be coming from the roof. Everyone else seems to be too wrapped up in Zachariah's rant to notice. He listens hard, trying to determine what's making those sounds. Is that whispering?

"So what do you say Dean-o?" Zachariah asks Dean, startling the hunter from his thoughts.

"What?" Dean asks. He was too distracted to catch the last couple of things that Zachariah said.

"You should really be paying attention," Zachariah taunts. "I'm giving you a choice. Are you going to start raising some horsemen or will Sam's family have to suffer for your stubbornness?"

Dean doesn't have a chance to answer before all hell breaks loose. A small army of demons breaks through the plywood-covered skylight into the warehouse. At the front, leading the charge is Castiel.

AN: That's all for now. For anyone who was wondering Ecanus is the angel of writers. I needed an angel name, so I thought including him would be interesting. In my head Ecanus looks like Neal Gaiman. The next chapter should be the last one (other than the prologue). It will include THE fight scene and the aftermath. It should be exciting. Keep an eye out for it within the next few weeks. I'm off to my real job now. Until next time : )


	14. Chapter 13

**Warnings This Chapter:** Some blood and gore, Violence (although not much more than you see on the show) and some character death

Chapter 13:

AN: Hello! Does anyone remember this fic anymore? I'm really really sorry. I meant to post this chapter awhile ago, but school started up again. My classes have been kicking my ass. So without futher ado, Enjoy!

Last time:

Dean doesn't have a chance to answer before all hell breaks loose. A small army of demons breaks through the plywood-covered skylight into the warehouse. At the front, leading the charge is Castiel.

Now:

The angels are surprised by the sudden invasion from above. They abandon watch over their mortal prisoners in favor of battling their ancient enemies.

In a one-on-one fight an angel will easily defeat a demon, but at the moment the demons have the advantage of greater numbers. After Dean's blood bath of an entrance, the angels are left with around two dozen warriors. The demons came prepared with more than 100 fighters. This leaves the sides pretty evenly matched.

Castiel lands next to Dean. He takes down the two angels that have his lover restrained with a single quick movement. Then, he uses his knife to cut Dean's bonds.

"Thanks Cas, I knew I made you my second in command for a reason," Dean smirks. "Well a reason beside your awesome bod."

Castiel smiles, a slight blush on his face. A less pleasant voice interrupts before he can respond.

"Hello, Castiel," Zachariah sneers. "Long time no see. We assumed that you were dead. We didn't think that even an angel as mediocre as you would subject himself to becoming Lucifer's whore. Then again, maybe we underestimated just how much of a slut you really are." Castiel is about to charge at the other angel, but Dean holds him back.

"I'll take care of him," Dean explains. "You go help Sam and his family." Castiel glares at Zachariah for a second longer before going to do as Dean requested.

"So the little catamite can't even fight his own battles," Zachariah sneers.

"Aw, you're just jealous," Dean counters. "Because no one wants to go to the prom with you." Zachariah frowns.

"You petulant brat," Zachariah takes a swing at Dean. Dean doges and answers with a blow of his own to Zachariah's chest. Zachariah lands a punch to Dean's face and Dean quickly retreats backwards to avoid another. They circle each other slowly. They charge forward trading blow after blow, neither gaining any ground. A sudden kick to his solar plexus send Dean sailing back. He lands with a groan on the floor. Zachariah advances quickly, wrapping his hands around Dean's neck. Dean's silver angel knife has fallen in the floor beside him. He reaches toward it as his vision begins to go dark. His hand wraps around the hilt of the blade. He brings the silver knife up, plunging it through the throat of the man above him. A gurgling sound part fear, part surprise comes from Zachariah's ruined throat. His eyes are wide with shock. Dean doesn't look away as Zachariah's life ends in an explosion of light. He turns away once the angel's lifeless vessel has fallen to the floor. He tries to find Castiel.

Castiel has already freed Sam. Now the two of them are trying to make their way across the room to where Sam's wife and children are restrained. It's only a few hundred feet. If the warehouse was empty the walk would only take a few minutes, but it isn't empty. The warehouse has turned into a battlefield. Neither side has any sort of plan. The fighting resembles a free-for-all street brawl. The floor is littered with the corpses of unfortunate vessels. The air has begun to fill with smoke from the small but growing fires that were lit by some overzealous demons. Navigating through this chaos is slow going. Castiel often has to stop to defend himself against an attacking angel or pull Sam back from a collision with a distracted fighter.

Dean has an easier time navigating. Being the king of hell has some advantages. The demons do their best to stay out of their lord's way and most of the angels are smart enough to do the same. Occasionally an angel is foolish enough to challenge him and Dean subdues them without batting an eye.

He reaches the support beam that Sam's family is tied to. They look shaken and a little scraped up, but don't seem to be seriously hurt. Dean realizes that is could have been a lot worse.

"Help Cas cut them free," Dean commands, handing Sam his knife. "I keep the angels away from you."

Dean watches Sam and Cas out of the corner of his eye as he protects them from any enemy angels that approach. Diana, Sam's wife, wants to ask questions, but she can't figure out how to even begin to understand the nightmare that her life has turned into in such a short period of time. She decides that at the moment the most important thing is to get her family out of this warehouse turned warzone. But Sam will definitely owe her an explanation later.

As soon as the ropes have been cut away Sam's children, Robin and Nathan, rush into their father's arms. They hug him tight as if they expect him to disappear at any moment. Sam holds them tight for the same reason. Once the children let go, Diana takes their place in Sam's arms and pulls him into a passionate kiss.

"We thought we'd lost you," she whispers as if saying it too loudly will suddenly make it true.

"Me too," Sam replies. They hold each other silently for several moments until Cas speaks.

"We must go now," Castiel states reluctant to interrupt. Sam nods in agreement.

"Duck," Dean suddenly yells. Everyone drops to the ground just as a Demon (thrown across the room by an angel) passes inches above their heads and crash lands where Sam's family had been minutes before, eviscerating the support column in a cloud of dust.

That's when Dean notices something. Many of the buildings other support structures have suffered similar fates as this one, as have a few areas of the wall. There isn't much left holding up the ceiling. It's beginning to crumble.

"Run, go, hurry," Dean commands.

"What?" Sam wonders at his brother's sudden rush.

"In a few minutes that ceiling is going to come down on us like Britney Spear's career," Dean explains. "We need to get out now."

They're running, desperately fleeing the collapsing warehouse. One angel, too mindless to flee like most of his brothers, surprises Sam by grabbing him and pulling him away from the group. The angel slams the back of Sam's head into the floor, pinning him to the ground, and punches him repeatedly across the face. He feels dizzy from the blow to his head. His lip splits and blood fills his mouth as the angel continues to pummel him.

Dean yanks the angel off his brother and takes him out with a flick of the silver knife. Sam's world spins as Dean pulls him to his feet.

"Sammy, you ok?" Dean asks. Sam feels ready to throw up. "I think you have a concussion. Let me help you." Dean wraps his brother's arm around his shoulder and helps support him as they make their way toward the exit.

Castiel is somewhere ahead of Dean although they can't see each other through the layers of smoke. Castiel is trying to lead Diana, Robin, and Nate to the exit as safely as possibly with the poor visibility and numerous obstacles.

Suddenly there is a quiet cry and gasp of pain as Nathan trips over the body of a fallen fighter. Castiel, Diana, and Robin all turn back to help him.

"Keep going," Castiel tells Diana. "I will see to Nathan." Diana hesitates a moment, but both of them know that the roof could collapse at any moment so every second counts. She trusts Castiel to take care of her son, so she grips Robin's hand and continues toward the exit.

Cas tries to gently help Nathan to his feet. The boy winces and lets out a hiss of pain when he puts pressure on his left leg. Castiel feels for injuries. Nathan must have hurt his ankle when he tripped. Luckily it isn't broken, but it is badly sprained. Nathan won't be able to put any weight on it. The angel lifts the 6 year-old into his arms, intending to carry the boy to the exit.

The Winchester family has been separated by the chaos around them, left unsure of the exact location of their other family members. Diana is closest to the exit. She clutches Robin's hand tightly as she tries to maneuver around the all the debris that lies between them and freedom. Castiel is just a bit behind them with Nate held to his chest. Bringing up the rear is a still slightly dizzy Sam leaning on Dean for support.

With a loud cracking sound as the only warning, the ceiling above them finally gives way. Sam's family is still at least a hundred feet from the door. Everyone ends up buried in a shower of debris. When the dust clears the warehouse has finally gone quiet. Most of the fires have been smothered by the chunks of roof. By now the warriors from both heaven and hell seem to have either died or retreated.

Castiel rises from the wreckage. Despite his trench coat being nearly torn off his body, he doesn't have a scratch on him. In his arms Nathan in freaked out but unharmed. Castiel looks around. His eyes focus on a specific place among the rubble.

Suddenly that section of debris explodes outward in a wave of energy revealing Dean Winchester. He reaches down and pulls his brother up from the sea of concrete. Both of the brothers are covered in dust, but Dean's powers have kept them from being crushed. Sam eyes come to rest on his son. He rushes over the debris, occasionally stumbling, as his makes his way toward his son. He takes the boy from Castiel's arms into his own.

"Are you alright?" Sam questions his son.

"I'm ok, Daddy," Nathan nods.

"Thank God," Sam says hugging Nate tight to his chest.

"Do you here that?" Castiel asks Dean, distracting his from watching his brother and nephew. Dean listens. There's muffled whimpering sound coming from beneath the rubble. They follow the sound, digging under the debris to find its source. Under a large section of heavy roof is Diana.

There's blood soaking the back of her head where she was hit by a section of concrete. She isn't moving. Dean reaches down to check her pulse. There isn't one and she doesn't seem to be breathing.

Trapped under her mother's dead body Dean finds Robin. Her breathing is panicked and there are wet tear trails cutting through the dust on her face. That's the noise they've been hearing. She's scrapped and bruised, but at least she's alive. It looks like had Diana used her body as a shield to protect her daughter from the collapsing ceiling. It worked at the cost of Diana's own life.

Dean carefully moves Diana's body so that Robin can crawl free. Sam has come over to see what is happening. He comes to an abrupt stop and stares in shock at his wife's body. Nathan is trailing after him, his little hand grasped in Sam's. He looks at his father then, what remains of his mother then back to his father again. He doesn't know what is going on.

"Daddy…?" Sam doesn't hear the rest of Nathan's question. He falls to his knees as his whole world falls away until all he can see is his wife. He cradles the body in his arms

"Di," he says patting her cheek. "Di, Diana please," he begs her unmoving form. His body shakes with unshed tears.

"Cas, take the kids to the car," Dean commands. "They don't need to see this." Cas nods solemnly, takes each child by the hand, and leads them away from this place where everything is broken.

Dean kneels down next to his brother placing his hand on the younger man's shoulder. He wants to say something comforting, but there aren't any words to could make this better.

"Bring her back," Sam pleads. "Please, Dean."

"I can't Sammy," It breaks Dean's heart to be unable to give this to Sam. "She is… was a good person. She is going to head straight up to those pearly gates. That's not my department. She's out of my reach."

"What about Azazel?" Sam questions. "He brought me back to life."

"Because I made a deal, Sammy," Dean explains. "Otherwise it would have been impossible."

"So I could make a deal with you to get her back?" Sam reasons.

"You can't Sam," Dean insists. "What do you have to trade?"

"My soul," Sam offers.

"I don't want your soul," Dean replies. "You sell me your soul and you'll end up in hell. Hell sucks. Take the worst thing you can imagine, multiply it by ten, and you still haven't scratched the surface of how horrible it is down there. The demons down there are less trustworthy than a nest of snakes. They'd rip you apart the second I take my eyes off you. I wouldn't be able to protect you. I can't let that happen. I can't take your soul."

"It's our fault she's dead, Dean," Sam accuses. "The angels went after her because of us. She was here because of us. We painted a huge bulls-eye on her back without even giving her a heads up. We did this, Dean. Now we have to fix it. I'll give you anything. Name it. Anything if you bring them back."

Dean thinks of the one thing he's wanted since this started. He thinks of the horror of the last couple days (_fear, blood, death_) versus the tranquility of the preceding thirteen years (love_, laughter, pie_). He knows what he wants.

"I want things to go back to the way they were," Dean blurts out before he can have second thoughts. "Forget everything that's happened."

"How…?" Sam trails off as the light bulb suddenly goes off in his head. "You want me to let you shuffle around in my head again, mess with my memories. You want me to go back to not knowing about all the evil that's out there." Dean doesn't respond to the accusations. The anger disappears from Sam's voice. "If I let you, you'll bring Diana back?," he asks. Dean nods.

"Then, you have a deal," Sam agreed. "Um… do we have to kiss?" Sam wonders uncertainly after several moments of silence.

"Ew, no Sam," Dean replies. "We can just shake on it."

Sam awakens to the shrill ringing of his alarm. He tries to hold on to the unusually vivid dream that he'd been having. It slips away like sand through his fingers. All that's left are hazy sensations: dust clinging to his skin, a sticky red splash of color across his vision, the anxious sound of his brother's voice, and an overwhelming feeling of dread.

He glances over at the other side of the bed where Diana sleeps. She isn't there. Sam's breath quickens and his heart begins to pound as he enters the first stage of panic.

"Good morning sleepy head," Diana calls as she enters the room. Her hair is still damp from the shower. Sam mentally scolds himself for getting so worked up over nothing. He has no idea why he reacted that way.

"Morning," Sam responds as he and Diana share a good morning kiss.

"You had better get dressed," she advises. "You have that meeting with Richardson this morning."

Sam looks at her in confusion. The last thing he remembers is saying goodbye to Dean and then putting the kids to bed. That was Saturday. His meeting with Richardson wasn't until Wednesday. Where had the three days in-between gone? There's a part of him that feels like he should worry about this, but the thoughts keeps slipping from his mind. He can't focus on those missing days. It's like someone constructed a wall around his memories of those days. His wife asks him a question and the entire issue falls from his mind. He heads off to work with a smile on his face.

Dean drives. He restores Sam's life to the way it was, making sure to erase everyone's memory of what happened. Then, he mojos himself into the impala and just drives. Dean needs to think or maybe not think, he isn't really sure at this point. All he knows is that he can't stay where he was. He's tired of looking Sam in the eye and lying to him. He presses a button on the radio and Led Zepplin's 'Ramble On' begins to play. Dean lets the music and rumble of his baby's engine mute the nagging, guilty voice in his mind.

After nearly 12 hours and more than 1,000 miles of driving, Dean finds himself heading through a sea of large glass and metal buildings. Running completely on autopilot, he pulls into the garage and parks the car. His feet take him up the stairs and into an office that seems familiar. Suddenly between the other rushing business people Dean catches sight of his brother. That's when it hits him: this is Sam's law office.

Dean watches, invisible to everyone, as his brother interacts with his co-workers. Sam listens to a brunet woman talk about her son's soccer game. He shares a joke with a short, balding man. He goes over some files for the upcoming trial with a skinny, blond man. They gather around the water cooler to talk about last night's baseball game, what movies they've seen recently, and what it's going to be like once their children are back in school. It's all so normal. None of them know that Sam had nearly died yesterday.

Dean is the only one that knows. He can't forget. The guilt worms its way into his thoughts. He spent 13 years lying and keeping his brother in the dark. He'd taken away Sam's defense against all the supernatural things out there that want their heads on a platter. It had almost gotten his entire family killed. Hell, Diana had been killed (if only temporarily). Then, he'd been forced to come clean. He finally had the chance to stop the lies, but the first chance he'd gotten, Dean had pressured into giving up his memories again. What kind of person does something like that? He wants to look away, but it's like watching a train wreck. Despite his best effort to forget or at, the guilt continues to eats at him.

Sam stays late that night. He needed to make sure his argument is perfect for court tomorrow. Almost everyone else has gone home already. The only other person he sees on the way to the elevator is Kevin from the night cleaning crew. He rides the elevator alone down to the parking garage. It's dark down there with harsh industrial lights providing an occasional pool of brightness in the sea of dark. He approaches his car, stopping short when he notices a shadowy figure leaning on the hood. He tries to back away slowly, but the figure catches sight of him. It takes a step forward.

"Hey, Sammy," a familiar voice rings out in the nearly-empty garage.

"Jesus Dean, you nearly gave me a heart attack," Sam reproaches with a smile.

"Sorry man," Dean responds. "I didn't know you scared so easy." Dean teases. He's trying to joke and act normal but, Sam can see the tension behind the smile.

"So what are you doing here man?" Sam asks. "This isn't exactly your neck of the woods."

"I have to tell you something," Dean says all the amusement gone from his face.

Sam awakens with his head swimming. For the second time that week forgotten memories come crashing over him like waves. It takes him several moments to realize that he's sprawled out in the backseat of his own car. And it's moving. He sits up quickly, trying to catch of glimpse of whoever is driving.

"Rise and shine," Dean's cheerful voice comes from the driver's seat. That answers that question. "I can't believe you drive a mini-van. I don't think I'm ever going to get the stench of soccer mom out of my clothes. I just might have to burn them."

Sam just stares at Dean with a blank look on his face. Dean's smile becomes tentative and he begins to drum his fingers nervously on the steering wheel.

"Well, you're home," Dean states after a few minutes of awkward silence. Sam glances out the window and realizes that they've come to a stop in his driveway. He snaps to attention at the sound of one of the car door banging shut. He watches in surprise as Dean walks down the driveway, away from Sam.

"Where are you going?" Sam scrambles out of the car and shouts after his brother.

"Dunno," Dean shrugs. "I should probably go get my car. I left it at the garage and if anything happens to my baby, the consequences will not be pleasant."

"You're just going to just drop a bombshell like that _directly in my brain_ and then take off?" Sam questions heatedly.

"I didn't think you'd want to sit around and have a tea party," Dean replies. "And I didn't want to hang around for the punch to the face."

Sam opens his mouth to retort, but his voice catches in his throat when he remembers how he reacted the last time his memories returned. Dean turns and continues to walk away. Sam grabs his brother's arm, pulling him to a stop.

"I know I didn't have the best reaction before," Sam ignores the way Dean rolls his eyes at this statement. "But, I understand it now. I mean you saved my life in the warehouse. You helped rescue my family. You brought my wife back to me. You did everything you could to help me even when I was a jerk to you. You are **s**till emotionally constipated and try to run at the first sign of a chick flick moment, but that's what makes you my brother. I can't believe I didn't get it before but I get it now. I get it dude. I'm sorry."

Sam waits for Dean to respond, the quiet stretching on and making him anxious. Finally, Dean speaks.

"Bitch," Dean says, his face breaking into a huge grin.

"Jerk," Sam retorts, smiling just as widely as his brother. That single word from his brother reassures him that everything between them is going to be okay.

AN: I hope you enjoyed that. This is the last chapter (not counting the epilogue that should also be up). Please take the time to review. Thanks for reading. See you next time :)


	15. Epilogue

**Warnings This Chapter:** none, this chapter is pretty fluffy

Epilogue:

AN: It's almost over. Here's the epilogue. I hope you enjoy it.

It's been nearly a week since Sam and Dean worked out their issues. Sam is working from home this morning, when he hears the sound of a car horn beeping loudly outside. At first, he tries to ignore the sound, but eventually he gives up and goes outside to investigate. He finds the impala parked right in front of his house. Dean smirks from the driver's seat. Next to him, sitting in the passenger's seat, Castiel nods politely in greeting.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean proclaims loudly.

"What are you doing here Dean?" Sam questions. "Not that I mind. It's just the middle of the work week. I have things I need to get done today."

"I quit my job," Dean declares smugly. Sam is taken back for a second.

"Wait, you mean your job as Lord of Hell," Sam wonders. "I thought that wasn't the type of job that you could quit."

"Well, I didn't so much as quit as call in dead," Dean admits. "All the demons know that I had a big macho showdown with Zachariah the junkless. When neither of us showed up for duty the next day, everyone assumed that we'd blown each other up. I don't plan on correcting them. I could use some permanent vacation time."

"Oh, so what are you going to do now?" Sam asks.

"Cas and I are taking a little trip," Dean states.

"Going on vacation?" Sam guesses.

"Dean has found a werewolf in Chicago," Castiel interjects. "We plan to _take care of_ it."

"It'll be a working vacation," Dean explains. "We gank this thing then we might do the tourist thing.

"How long are you gonna be gone?" Sam wonders. "Diana is expecting you Saturday for dinner."

"We'll be back by then, Sammy," Dean assures him. "I wouldn't let a mangy fur ball come between me and your wife's pie. Plus, I plan to tell some embarrassing stories about you in front of your kids."

"I can't wait," Sam deadpans even as a smile threatens to break across his face. "Stay safe. Don't take any stupid risks."

"You could come with us," Dean offers. Sam thinks about the life that he's made in California, the family that he would be leaving behind.

"No thanks, man," Sam replies. Dean smiles as if that was the answer he was hoping for.

"Alright then Sammy," Dean says. "I'll see you Saturday."

Sam smiles as he watches the impala disappear into the distance. He has the feeling that everything has returned to the way it should be.

AN: That's the end. I hope you enjoyed my first multi-chapter fic. Please take the time to review. Thanks. Hopefully, I'll be back with some new short stories in December. Stay tuned for that. Thanks for reading. See you next time :)


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